Homestuck: Dimensions Intertwined
by aregulargamer1
Summary: Four Humans flee before the hound's wrath, twelve trolls cower within the depths of their meteor, whilst twelve more look on from the dream bubbles. These groups are on the verge of collapse even now, so how can they hope to stand against the Lord of Time. Yet, all is not lost, a new session will soon connect to the others. Perhaps these new players, can help the others to stand.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Reality cares little for those caught up in its path. Ultimately, nothing in existence matters more than the continuation of existence itself. To this end, vast, impossibly complex pathways and series of events occur, all to perpetuate reality's continued existence. Epic clashes of good and evil, vast battles between gods and demons, the birth of planets and the death of galaxies, all events, no matter how big or how small, have only one ultimate end goal, the perpetuation of reality.

Many universes are created to play out a single story, a single event, with a small cast, a beginning and an end. These are the basic stitches that hold together all existence. Yet, there are other tales to tell, those of universes that, through accident, or otherwise, find themselves joined together, for better or for worse. It is these universes, ones that bond together, and play host to an ever shifting and evolving story, tales without end, that play the most part in holding reality together.

The way that reality perpetuates itself is through a game, a game for gods. A game that leaves civilizations in ashes, worlds destroyed, a universe in flames. The few chosen to play will stand over it all, the ashes of their entire race and civilization. They shall be granted godly powers and knowledge beyond imagining to craft a new universe, to continue the cycle.

It is said that these gods are fated to never meet those who created their universe, or the gods of the new universe that the current gods created. To forever dwell in their lonely dimension, having completed their role in the cycle. Such is the way it has always been, and yet, all that is about to change.

A new session, a barren session has begun, one with unusually close ties to other sessions, and a new threat has appeared. A demon, one who devours universes and strikes fear into the horrorterrors themselves has appeared, one who has set his sights on all destroying all existence. The strings of fate have been altered, and four sessions now drift together, four sets of players must stand together against the coming darkness, or die alone. For when Lord English approaches, the universe will burn...

 **A/N : So. This is my first ever attempt at making a fanfic on this site. I'm curious to see if anyone actually reads this, I have a few chapters ready to go already, but if there is very little interest in this, I may end up canceling it. That said, if like, four or five strangers comment on this and are interested in seeing more, I will view that as total success and be very happy to continue with this. Obviously, I do not Own homestuck or anything else like that, Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie...I think. Anyway, please do not sue me, I have like, no money.**

 **In terms of plot and content, this is basically about three players (O.C's) from a different session, getting sucked into the beta kids session (slightly after Jade:enter). After that, things will mostly proceed as normal, but various events will be altered through the presence of some new...mildly sane players. Generally, the story will go in whatever direction the audience (if any) want it to go. The first act, will be the three O.C's in their session, doing stuff, ascending to god tier, defeating the black king, and immediately after wards, being whisked away to the beta kids session. The second act will be all the events that happen in the beta kids session.**

 **And that's about it, I hope that you will review, and offer suggestions on things that can be fixed or improved.**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Before we start, I would just like to thank Spyzee for all his help. Hes a pretty awesome guy.**

 **Chapter 1.**

The sun's setting rays shone upon a small suburban neighborhood in eastern Canada. The frigid tinge of autumn was already in the air during these last days of summer. The dying light cast long shadows in-between the rows of beige, monotonously identical, two story houses.

In one house in particular, a young man stands. This is august fifteenth, his birthday. His thirteenth birthday, in fact. This young child's name is Chester Dunwich, and he is sick and tired of waiting. He has been watching his mailbox for almost an hour, in anticipation of the sburb beta... and has finally abandoned hope of it arriving today. Lousy Ontario postal service...

The young fellow in question, is dressed quite well for the Ontario winter. He dons a boot-length tan coat with a gray toque (hat, for non-Canadians) and white sneakers. He has medium length brown hair, and calculating blue eyes, centered closely to a small nose and a rounded jaw.

Leaving the window, the young lad inspects his room in abject boredom. Posters of various **video games** adorn one wall, including one for the new **WarSlammer 30,000 game**... mmmm... those glorious **spess rangers** with their lazer guns and power armor... what he wouldn't give for... WAIT, never mind, gonna end that train of thought right there... moving on.

His eyes fall across his bed, tucked to one side of the room, big poofy dark blue blanket... wooden bed frame, nothing out of the ordinary. There is, obviously, his computer desk, with his big comfy, soft leather stool and his state-of-the art desktop. Paid for with all his own money, mind you, not like his rich Grandpappy could have covered some of it... cheap old bastard... Well, he was trying to teach Chester work ethics and stuff, but still, Grandpappy didn't amass a fortune by actually _spending_ any of his money. Anyway, lastly, there was his glass display case which housed his painstakingly hand-painted and assembled WarSlammer miniatures. Including the prized centerpiece of his army; **Lord Captain Boreall** , while by all accounts an insane, delusional, schizophrenic, kleptomaniacal, lunatic, the good captain was also an excellent commander of the spess rangers with courage in battle and the most brilliant tactical mind. The lad was very proud of the almost thirty hours of work that had been put into modeling and painting the vaunted tactical genius...yeah, Chester got beat up a lot.

Needless to say, Chester fancied himself to be a strategist and a commander...though he had never actually led anything outside an RTS, and was cripplingly shy around anyone other than the only two people on the planet he considered "friends". Both of whom he had never actually met and only talked with online... Speaking of which, it seems that Chris, alternatively known as _incorporealCritisist_ was pestering him via pesterchum.

But who cares, he can wait. We're not done discussing Chester yet.

Lastly, Chester was tutored by his millionaire grandpappy in the art of business and investing. Chester considered himself a genius of finances and the markets, and he kind of was, and kind of made a lot of money on the stock exchange...until the markets tanked and he lost almost everything he made in the first place... oh well, nothing was really lost as he still had his original investment.

Anyway, deciding that Chris was kept waiting long enough, Chester sat at his luxuriously soft and cushy chair and checked his pesterchum with a few precise mouse clicks.

-incoporealCriticist [IC]began pestering InquisitoralLogician [IL]-

IC: ...hey?

IC: youthere?

IC: ?

IC: chester?

IL: Yes. What is it? How many times have I told you not to spam my chat log...

IL: I'm disappointed in you...

IC: *gasp ***** yourwords wound me goodsir... :(

IC: have youatleast got the betayet? I still dont haveit yet

IL: No. Stupid Canadian mail system. Though, I am surprised to hear that you don't have it yet. I would have thought you would have sucessfully "purchased" it by now.

IC: the piratingis takingmore time than expected... but nothingcan escape mymasterful hacking abilities forlong...

IL: Good. If mine dosent arrive soon, I may have to ask you to send me a copy.

IC: I can totes dothat once imdone downloading... ;)

IL: Please don't make that face. Its disturbingly unsettling enough as an emote.

IC: awww, youre nofun. If thatshow youre gonnabe, ill take my emotesand harass Evan. See how youlike that.

IL: You know I'm not actually serious right?

IL: But in all seriousness. I have to actually go now, my mailbox watching webcam is telling me the mailman is here.

IC: iforgot how lameyou were, butthat webcamcomment just reminded meabout it.

IL: Well screw you too.

IC: kay, byethen.

IL: Goodbye.

-incoporealCriticist [IC] ceased pestering InquisitoralLogician [IL]-

Well then, time to check the mail.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Anywho, welcome to chapter 2! Currently, I have one more chapter that is 100% done and ready to update. That one will be held in reserve until either Saturday or Monday. There is another one that is about 50% done-ish, which should be put up at some point next week. My (ideal) update schedule would be a chapter every week. The length of chapters will also increase significantly with the next two chapters. Anyway, enjoy! :)**

Meanwhile, in Seattle, Washington, the sun was still dominantly high amidst the smoggy gray sky. On the southern fringe of the metropolis, there lay a highway overpass with a dingy set of apartments nestled beneath it.

The overpass itself was an ancient, crumbling, heavily grafitied, ruin that probably violated more than a few building codes. Still, thousands of vehicles passed over it daily, creating an unceasing cacophony of noise that, among other factors, contributed to the dirt cheap housing prices in the area.

The surrounding area was just as...colorful. Several large gangs operated in the area, including two who considered themselves to be America's last great crime syndicates. These were the **Midnight Crew** and a more subtle organization called the **Felt Mob**. These crime empires accounted for almost forty to sixty murders, kidnappings, and shootings a year in the local area. They were also fond of...displaying their dismembered victims as a warning, or a message to the other group.

It was this completely normal and safe neighborhood that another thirteen year old child called home. He lived with his brother...who was his blood relative...as far as he could tell.

Anyway, this child was named Chris Baxter and he was feeling very mildly annoyed at his neighbors right now.

Chris was a black haired youth, who preferred to wear a set of (bought, not stolen...) silvery headphones, as well as one of many identical gray shirts with a blue logo consisting of four circles arranged in a diamond. The young lad had a sort of queer personality and was completely unpredictable in his actions, which usually involved theft and breaking and entering. Except in the vicinity of old people. They scared him... He also liked to wear black shoes with customized soles to assist in his sneaking...

In his apartment, there were many vacancies, but the people above him had been living there for his whole life. They were an unfathomably old couple who were so old, they still thought that computer mice were rodents, and that "commies" were going to invade. They were blind as bats, and generally unsuited to the modern world. For example, every month they received a steep internet bill. Despite not owning a computer, or knowing just what exactly an "internet" was, they still paid the exuberantly high rates.

Chris, being a talented hacker and a born sneaker, as well as having rampant **kleptomania,** naturaly took advantage of the situation, and thus, he never had his own internet, preferring to instead pilfer it from those upstairs.

This arrangement worked stunningly well for eight years, until today. The day that Chris began to download the Sburb beta.

The elderly couple's kids or grand-kids, (or great-grand-kids) had shown up today, to set up a computer for their decrepit progenitors, and password protect their internet. Chris had given himself administrative privileges on their internet a long time ago, and was currently fighting them tooth and nail to stay in the system.

While he's doing that, lets gaze about his room, shall we?

The young rapscallion's room was a disturbing mix of trophies stolen from total strangers, various food items in varying states of decay, a floor that looked like it had never been formally introduced to a vacuum cleaner or a mop, various posters of **light souls,** a hilariously easy video game created by some games studio no-one ever heard of...Chris REALLY liked it, not that he would ever admit it to anyone... it wasn't cool to "like" things. In another corner stood a cosplay of _**the black harasser,**_ Chris's **light souls** character and secret alter-ego. The costume was mainly comprised of very soft hand stitched cloth that was...borrowed...from a local Hobby Lobby. There were a few silver armor plates (that were actually cardboard taken from a local homeless man's shelter)on the joints and a sheath for an ultra-cool **sword** on the side...if he actually owned a sword...or anyone withing stealing distance of his appartment owned a **sword**.

A few gunshots rang out outside, but who cares... that happens all the time. Ignoring the ensuing firefight outside his appartment, Chris continued his virtual battle against his vile and despicable enemy...old people. Soon, he managed to completely lock out his opponents, but in a way that made them think that they were successful in installing the password and setting up the privacy controls.

With his internet access secure for the time being, and the sburb download no longer being throttled, he opened up pesterchum to see if anyone else had the beta currently.

First, he decided to pester Chester, who wasn't on at the moment, but that didn't deter Chris, who left him several messages.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IC: ...hey?

IC: youthere?

IC: ?

IC: chester?

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

before moving on to pester Evan.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: Evan?

IC: Evan?

IC: I knowyoure on dont ignoreme

IC: senpai?

IC: :(

IC: Finethen, ill go talkto chesterthen, I dont needyou :(

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Chris then proceeds to have a conversation with Chester, that you read in the previous chapter. Because the author dosent have very much faith in the short/long term memory of his readers, he will paste the aforementioned conversation in this chapter as well.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IC: ...hey?

IC: youthere?

IC: ?

IC: chester?

IL: Yes. What is it? How many times have I told you not to spam my chat log...

IL: I'm disappointed in you...

IC: *gasp ***** yourwords wound me goodsir... :(

IC: have youatleast got the betayet? I still dont haveit yet

IL: No. Stupid Canadian mail system. Though, I am surprised to hear that you don't have it yet. I would have thought you would have sucessfully "purchased" it by now.

IC: the piratingis takingmore time than expected... but nothingcan escape mymasterful hacking abilities forlong...

IL: Good. If mine dosent arrive soon, I may have to ask you to send me a copy.

IC: I can totes dothat once imdone downloading... ;)

IL: Please don't make that face. Its disturbingly unsettling enough as an emote. I hope I never have to see it in person.

IC: awww, youre nofun. If thatshow youre gonnabe, ill take my emotesand harass Evan. See how youlike that.

IL: You know I'm not actually serious right?

IL: But in all seriousness. I have to actually go now, my mailbox watching webcam is telling me the mailman is here.

IC: iforgot how lameyou were, butthat webcamcomment just reminded meabout it.

IL: Well screw you too.

IC: kay, byethen.

IL: Goodbye.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Darn, now Chris felt kinda sad... OH WELL, time to pester Evan... again...he couldn't escape Chris this time. Then again, even on a good day, Evan was...not fond of Chris. This would need to be handled delicately...

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: SENPAIIIII! Why are youignoring me! I NEEDTO TALK TOYOU!

EE: Chris. My patience grows thin with you. Choose your next words carefully.

IC: Oh thereyouare I need to knowif you have sburbyet.

EE: downloading It now

IC: Goodgood, so howare you?

EE: Why do you care? Are you trying to distract me so you can hack me again?

IC: No, no, I wouldnever do that...especiallyafter your...nicethreats of physicalviolence

EE: Those were not threats, those were promises. And they still stand, touch my shit, and I will drive my Winnebago across the entire goddamn planet to end you. I'm sure the package I sent you back then was... proof of my ability to deliver.

IC: plz no

IC: canwe talk aboutsomething else plz :( im sad

IC: sad faceis sad

IC: Can youfeel its sadness?

EE: Yes, the two dimensional icon positively drips sadness.

EE: So what else did you need?

IC:well Iwas wondering what youwere upto

EE: Not much, dad's off to do some recon, so I'm holding down the fort here.

IC: thefort? Youmean that Winnebago?

EE: Yes, the Winnebago. I'm in the ball turret on the roof with my laptop. Keeping an eye on things... never know when those damn Commies will attack.

IC: im prettysure your kiddingwith that...or atleast I likedto think thatbefore you sentme that box...

EE: Shit. .shit. Gotta go.

IC: What? Whatsgoing on?

EE: The North Koreans just opened fire on the trailer. Hold on, ill be back

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Worried, Chris tried messaging Evan a few more times, but the other fellow wasn't responding. Now, he was pretty sure that Evan's claims of living on the North Korean border with his dad as some sort of guerrilla fighters were complete poppycock...but then that package came and well...now Chris wasn't sure what to believe.

Contrary to what others (see:everyone) thought of him, Chris did genuinely care about the few people he considered friends...except his brother, fuck that guy. He just had a very unique way of showing his friendship. Like being kind of a tool on pesterchum, and sending them virus laden Emails, because "why not?". But then again, his friends were also kind of tools, Chester with his superior attitude and Evan with his... random, mercurial bouts of violence. So it all kind of worked out in the end. They were the only people on the planet who could actually stand each other.

Most of the time.

Now then, time to check on Evan...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys... or more like the two people that clicked on the first chapter and left :(**

 **Anyway, I was planning to update this a few days earlier, but I had the flu... it was not fun.**

 **So sorry about that, but here you go, Chapter 3. Enjoy and review please.**

Elsewhere, in a mountainous, heavily wooded region of the North Korean/South Korean border. A lone **Winnebago** was parked in a shadowed and obscured from view thicket. The sun was beginning to rise, covering the sloped valleys of the surrounding area in a gentle light.

The **Winnebago** itself, was a very...modified version of a normal Winnebago. The front was adorned with a large dozer blade...for some reason. The roof had a glass, ball machine-gun turret that looked like it was literally ripped out of a world war two bomber, if the jagged edges and frayed wires were any indication. Various armor plates were haphazardly welded down all over the ridiculous contraption, and the wheel-wells were covered by large, horizontal armor plates that ran along the sides of the camper like a skirt. A several ton skirt.

Clearly, whoever made this...thing was either a hardcore bad-ass, or frothingly insane... One or the other...maybe a bit of both.

It was this decrepit zombie-apocalypse machine that the last of the three, thirteen year old kids called home. This young lad's name is Evan Mc-Cready and he is currently gazing at his makeshift internet router in irritation, trying will the download of sburb to go faster. His friends in North America were complaining about their wifi, but at least they actually had internet. In the internet empty desert that was North Korea, Evan had to carry his own jury-rigged wifi generating hardware to even connect to the internet. Trying to connect from here was so slow, it made dial-up internet look meteorically fast by comparison. All these damn trees weren't helping either.

Evan was a tall, lanky fellow with a short mop of brown hair adorning his head, and a pointy nose flaked by a pair of hazel eyes. He currently wore a gray, rainproof, hooded jacket with brown work pants and steel-toed boots. His jacket was covered with various utility pouches and ammunition belts. By the **Winnebago** 's door stood his trusty tan backpack, loaded with all sorts of supplies that he would often use to fight the commies with his dad. Like food pouches, flint, water purifiers and box-cutters.

What? A box-cutter isn't a weapon? Evan will have you know that he once almost killed two North Korean latrine-diggers with a box-cutter when he was eight years old. How's that for "not a viable weapon"?

Anyway, Evan lived here with his dad. Said paternal figure arrived in Korea during the Korean war. After being refused from the army, navy and air force on grounds of being "too violent" and "mentally unstable for military duty" he decided that if the U.S army wouldn't send him, he would damn well send himself. Somehow, Evan's dad managed to acquire and drive a Winnebago across several continents, applying upgrades along the way, before arriving in Korea. Also, somewhere along the line Evan was born...or otherwise entered the picture. Evan's dad dosen't exactly remember where Evan came from...he's not even positive that Evan is actually his son...

But that didn't stop him from teaching Evan combat skills and grooming Evan to be his replacement to continue the "good fight" against those damn dirty commies. After the war had ended, Evan's dad refused to accept "those no-good spineless politician's" decision, and thus stayed in Korea, fighting a one-man, one-child war against the entire North Korean army. In a Winnebago. That was beginning to more closely resemble a battle tank than an RV at this point.

Yes, they are both probably, completely insane.

Currently, Evan was downloading sburb and occasionally scanning through pesterchum while keeping an eye outside the camper. His dad had gone off to do recon earlier, as in, a few days earlier. Which left him in the trailer by himself. His dad also had left Evan a list of chores to do. Like refilling the ammunition boxes on the roof turret, washing the windows, and doing the laundry.

Yes, that's right. The Winnebago straight out of Mildly Angry Max, (an obscure and unpopular movie that happened to be one of Evan's secret guilty pleasures to watch) had a washing machine, and dryer combo aboard. It also had other completely normal appliances such as a pair of machine-guns inside the hood. However, since his dad had metal welded over-top of it, the machine-guns couldn't actually shoot at anything and the hood couldn't actually open anymore... oops. But that useless addition had nothing on the "bullet-proof driver shield" that Evan's dad had put in after he got tired of being shot at through the front window while engaging in "ramming maneuvers". Said shield was little more than an ancient lead bathtub on hinges, that connected to the driver's seat via a pair of door hinges. If desired, the driver could turn around, and try to lift the several ton bathtub over top of his head. A metal framework around the driver's seat kept it in place while it was down. The only downside was that "the shield" worked by hiding one's head inside the bathtub, cutting off any possibility of seeing where one is driving... Oh well, what kind of a square actually needs to look where they're going...

Evan absentmindedly noticed that Chris had left a few bothersome messages for him, but disregarded them. If that wretched kleptomaniac needed to talk to him about something noteworthy, then Evan would be up to it. Since it was most likely more of Chris's useless, mildly unsettling jabber, it could wait.

Evan considered getting off his ass and doing some of his chores, but thought better of it, after all, what kind of twisted commie _willingly_ does chores?

Looking around the camper, Evan passed his gaze over the various propaganda posters that littered the walls, most looking like they had come out of the second world war. Elsewhere there was a dartboard with some dirty Korean commie's photo on it... strange...that guy eerily resembles the _South Korean_ President... Yeah, his dad never could tell non-Caucasians apart. Now that Evan thought about it, his dad did act kinda racist sometimes. Occasionally, there were "friendly fire" incidents with South Korean troops... his dad said it was accidental... Evan wasn't positive that he believed him, but his dad was near-sighted...and schizophrenic... and possibly senile... Yeah, this was a great person for raising small children.

Gazing lazily outside the window, Evan thought he could see something moving outside, in the treeline...Dad?

Then his pesterchum beeped, scaring the heck out of him...Of course, it was Chris. Evan sighed deeply, getting more annoyed with the situation with every passing minute. Unfortunately, when Evan got angry, he became unreasonable...and violent. Very, very violent. And right now, he was very close to getting angry.

Looking back to check his pesterchum, he decided to see what it was that Chris wanted from him.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: SENPAIIIII! Why are youignoring me! I NEEDTO TALK TOYOU!

EE: Chris. My patience grows thin with you. Choose your next words carefully.

IC: Oh thereyouare I need to knowif you have sburbyet.

EE: downloading It now

IC: Goodgood, so howare you?

EE: Why do you care? Are you trying to distract me so you can hack me again?

IC: No, no, I wouldnever do that...especiallyafter your...nicethreats of physicalviolence

EE: Those were not threats, those were promises. And they still stand, touch my stuff, and I will drive my Winnebago across the entire goddamn planet to end you. I'm sure the package I sent you back then was... proof of my ability to deliver.

IC: plz no

IC: canwe talk aboutsomething else plz :( im sad

IC: sad faceis sad

IC: Can youfeel its sadness?

EE: Yes, the two dimensional icon positively drips sadness.

EE: So what else did you need?

IC:well Iwas wondering what youwere upto

EE: Not much, dad's off to do some recon, so I'm holding down the fort here.

IC: thefort? Youmean that Winnebago?

EE: Yes, the Winnebago. I'm in the ball turret on the roof with my laptop. Keeping an eye on things... never know when those damn Commies will attack.

IC: im prettysure your kiddingwith that...or atleast I likedto think thatbefore you sentme that box...

As he was typing his response, Evan noticed something moving around in the treeline again. Annoyed, and having nothing better to do, he looked closer this time, determined to spot his unseen stalker. A few minutes of tense silence passed before... absolutely nothing happened. Looking back to pesterchum, Evan almost fell out of his perch when a deafening gunshot shattered the morning's quiet tranquility and something impacted the glass turret. Obviously, it barely scratched the bullet-proof glass Evan's dad had installed after he...found some bullet-proof glass... presumably just lying somewhere, waiting, for an upstanding, red-blooded American like himself to take it.

The shot was not alone, as more bullets began to ping off the ball turret and camper, creating a cacophony of noise throughout the trailer.

Immediately going into full combat mode, Evan scanned the forest, quickly making out a camouflaged (presumably North Korean) soldier trying to lie concealed in a depression in the ground. Glancing around, Evan made out more soldiers...surrounding the RV... More gunshots began to ring out as they all opened fire on the Winnebago. The armor held, but the noise inside was deafening.

Then, his pesterchum beeped again. Evan typed out a quick message to Chris to have him go away, and focused on how he was going to deal with this...oh yeah, the machine-gun.

EE: Shit. .shit. Gotta go.

IC: What? Whatsgoing on?

EE: The North Koreans just opened fire on the trailer. Hold on, ill be back

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Evan propped himself back in the turret's metal chair and grabbed the machine-gun's handles. Using the hydraulics to slowly turn the glass half-sphere towards the largest cluster of enemies...who were apparently too stupid to get out of the way, Evan aimed the two high caliber anti-aircraft guns, and gleefully pulled the trigger, expecting the violent dismemberment of his enemy by what was basically an anti-air gun. The mechanism inside the gun did it's thing and... nothing happened...

Evan was beginning to regret not reloading the guns when his dad told him to. Hindsight was, indeed, twenty twenty.

Deciding on a new course of action, Evan dropped down, and ran to the kitchen (which was comprised of a sink, microwave, and a counter-top). Reaching the counter-top, he grabbed a hidden handle on the bottom of it and pulled up, revealing a veritable armory of handguns, ammunition and a rifle. His rifle. Grabbing the rifle, which was modified with a hunting scope and a larger barrel to accommodate a higher bullet caliber, Evan closed the (one of many) gun storage cabinets and ran to the back of the Winnebago, where a small couch was built into the wall. Lifting one of the cushions, and throwing it over his shoulder, Evan revealed a metal hatch built into the couch. Upon throwing it open, a crudely drilled hole leading to the ground beneath the Winnebago was revealed.

Putting the rifle on his back, Evan quietly (not that there was a need to, with the racket put up by the enemies, what were they even shooting at?) clambered down, before dropping onto the moist grass beneath the camper. Removing his rifle and shouldering it, he peered through the scope and sighted his first target, who was oblivious to everything around him, firing his rifle while indiscriminately sweeping side-to-side.

Evan sighed, what an idiot. This guy wasn't even aiming, was he just trying to look busy? These commies were sometimes baffling with their idiocy. Still, they had interrupted his sburb download, halted his conversation with Chris, startled him and made him jump, but most importantly, they made him angry. And now, they would pay...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow. 0.0 Someone Liked my story. I almost fell out of my chair after I saw the notification. Anyway, this is the last of the pre-made chapters so it may be a while before the next one comes up. See: 1.5 weeks expected wait time. I do not own homestuck, because I am not Andrew Hussie. (or am I?) (im not, please don't sue me)**

As Evan was fighting for his life (see: massacring a dozen individuals unlucky enough to have stumbled onto him) Chester was just finishing up the sburb download. He and Evan had armed themselves with knowledge taken from a game-bro magazine, and had come up with a plan on how to approach the game.

Chester would be the first to enter (what ever that meant), while Evan would be the server player. Then, Chris would be Evan's server player, and Chester would be Chris's server player.

Although, Chester was still completely confused as to what a "server player" was. At first, he and Evan had assumed that it meant the server host... except that all three of them would be "server players" to one another. Gamebro, being the exquisite article of intelligence and knowledge that it was, unsurprisingly turned out to be completely uninformative in any way shape or form.

Now then, looking back to his computer, Chester could see that sburb was fully downloaded. As far as he knew, now he was supposed to wait for Evan to finish his download and connect to him as a server player. Knowing that bothering Evan would be fruitless, as the obtuse jerk never responded to his pesterchum, Chester instead stood up and wandered out of his room.

Walking down the hallway, Chester decided to get a snack. Meandering his way downstairs and into the kitchen, he could hear snoring coming from his grandpappy's room. That old buzzard practically spent all his time sleeping nowadays. Still, that was preferable to how he acted before. Chester's grandfather was a very...controlling fellow. With him, even a trip down the hallway to use the bathroom merited a half-dozen questions along the lines of "Where, do you think _you_ are going?" and "Why?".

Stupid old fart.

Entering the kitchen, Chester dug around for a while, before finally finding some hot pockets in a cupboard (though having grandpappy sleep all the time was nice, that meant he couldn't do other things, like go to the store to get food). Chester captchalogued the hot pockets in his "pop quiz" fetch modus. The pop quiz modus, could store one hundred different items at once, and allowed the user to withdraw whatever he wanted, whenever he desired it, but, the user had to sucessfully answer a randomly generated quiz question before he cold retrieve the item.

Chester tried to retrieve his Crocker Corp. portable heating device. The sylladex printed out a card, it read "What is the Capital of Botswana?"

Staring at the card in mild confusion, Chester pulled out his PDF, and searched for the capital's name on "Crocker_Search", a subsidiary of " CrockerWeb", the only web browser to still exist after the cut-throat competition that was the war for web dominance had finally ended.

Some may (and have) said that it was not a good thing for one company (Crocker Corp.) to have a complete monopoly over a vast array of different markets and product ranges, and for any and all competition to be (sometimes violently) driven out of business.

As far as Chester was concerned, business was a dog eat dog world, and all those protesting hippies were probably just tantruming over the fact that their company's had failed, where as Crocker Corp. had succeed.

Looking back at his PDF, the search had finished. Apparently the capital of Botswana was named "Gaborone". Appearifying a physical version of his sylladex, Chester typed in "Gaborone" and was rewarded with the heating device.

Now he just needed the hot pockets. He tried to retrieve them, and another card appeared from the sylladex, this one read "When was the Panama Canal Railway completed?" Searching it on his PDF revealed that it was completed on January 27, 1855. Typing it into his sylladex released the two hot pockets. Placing them into the heating device resulted in almost instantaneous heating of the food items.

Re-captchaloguing his heating device, and holding his warm food, Chester went back upstairs.

Upon re-entry of his room, he noticed that his pesterchum was showing unread messages. A few were from Chris, apparently Evan was in some sort of a conundrum, and Chris was on the verge of a panic attack about it. Anything the kleptomaniac wrote was barely legible at best, but with him at wits end, his messages were practically unreadable, let alone understandable. There was something in there about Koreans, and guns...and Chester was pretty sure the last message said something about elderly people...

Compared to the other person pestering him, Chris's messages seemed like a perfectly composed and inscrutably organized university paper.

The second set of messages were from a user called "ErROR0124nOtFoUnD" As unusual as it was for Chester to receive a message from someone that wasn't Evan or Chris, this guy looked like either a spam-bot, someone with horrifically laggy internet who lived in the middle of Antarctica, or some loser that thought his illegible user-name idea was "clever". His user name kept flickering and distorting...this guy's internet must be awful, even compared to Evans abominably bad connection, or was that some sort of special program that did that?

The users messages though...did not seem anything like the asinine drivel a spam-bot, or some random internet moron would write. Chester, his curiosity piqued, sat down and began to type back.

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

%$: _Greetings Chester,_

#: _From what I understand, you are about to enter the game soon, Correct?_

IL: Ummm... who are you? How do you know my name? And what do you mean by "enter"?

#$: _That is besides the point. You have the game in question, yes?_

IL: Well, I have sburb now, but why are you asking me? Who the hell are you?

&*: _Suffice it to say that I am an interested party. Now then, I have instructions for you for once you enter the medium._

IL: I don't normally type in all caps, but your obtuse statements are both confusing me and pissing me off, so WHO ARE YOU, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT, AND WHAT IS WITH ALL YOUR CRYPTIC BULLSHIT ABOUT SBURB? Pardon the language.

! : _Once you arrive on your planet, you must seek out your denizen immediately. That is all that you need to know, for now. Goodbye._

IL: Wait, you haven't actually told me anything, damn you. What do you mean by "your planet", sburb is a house building game. What the hell is a denizen or a medium? who are you?

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

And just like that, the cryptic fellow was gone, leaving Chester equal parts confused, annoyed, and violated. Who the hell was that guy, and how did he know my name, Chester wondered.

On the brief chance that his instructions may be moderately helpful in the future (but mostly to have evidence when submitting a formal complaint to pesterchum moderators), Chester took and printed a screen-cap of the chat log. The way the guy's initials kept distorting and changing characters (though it was, obviously just lag, or a custom program to make him seem all mysterious and stuff), was extremely unsettling, to say the least.

Looking back to his computer, Chester opened up Chris's chat log, and responded.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

IL: Are you there?

IC: yes ohmygod, I thinkEvan's introuble, he saidthere are peoplewith guns outsidethe Winnebago imso worriedwhat ifhe gets shot, orkilled? ohmygodohmygod ohmygod

IL: I don't believe Evan's in trouble, he's a tough fellow. If anything, the other people are in trouble from him.

IC: areyou sure, whatif hegets hurt

IL: It should be fine, If Evan is half as tough and aggressive in real life, as he is online, he should be more than fine.

IL: Anyway, do you have sburb yet?

IC: notyet, just a littlelonger. So imsupposed to connectto Evan?

IL: I guess so, as far as I can tell, Evan's connecting to me, you connect to him, and ill connect to you... If that makes sense. Which it dosent. Stupid obtuse system.

IC: ok kewl, ill leaveit to you then isthat it?

IL: I guess so. Bye.

IC: seeeya

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

So apparently Evan was under attack from gunmen. That was either a frightening truth, that warranted worrying and panic, or the best excuse to get Chris off your back that Chester had ever heard.

"The local militia have opened fire on the house. brb" He'd have to remember that one.

Leaning back in his chair, Chester began to gently nibble on his steaming hot pocket as he opened up INVESTCENTRAL, his preferred method of monitoring the markets, and started lazily browsing the UPDATES section, as he waited for Evan to get his act together, so they could actually start playing.

Everything on the markets seemed normal. Crocker Corp had bought out a large Chinese weapons manufacturing company... Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff The Game was announced at E4... The crocker phone mark-37 extra-slim was coming out... everything seemed perfectly average, share price for Crocker Corp was rising...as it always was...So, naturally, it was a wonderful investment and Chester bought a few dozen more shares. They said to _diversify_ , but then, it was Crocker Corp. That company made up most of the American and Canadian Economies.

No-one saw anything wrong with that.

He looked out of the window, again, completely bored out of his skull, and sighed.

This was going to be a long day.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, since Im on spring break now, that means I may be able to update a bit faster... Yay. So anyway, Im abysmally happy to see that there is like, one person who actually reviewed, remember, the more reviews and feedback I get, the more motivation I have to continue with this. As always, if you R &R I will be eternally grateful, and I do not own homestuck or anything else. Thanks for reading :)**

Elsewhere, a certain kleptomaniacal young lad was currently on the ground, his mind a mile a minute, panicking about the health and safety of one of his friends. Apparently, there were men with guns trying to kill Evan. Not good. Not good at all.

Chester, upon consultation, didn't seem to be concerned in the slightest about Evan's almost assured and impending demise. (Heartless, insensitive Jerk)

Although, he _did_ likely have a point, Chris reasoned. Evan _was_ skilled, and was definitely not a person to be trifled with. Chris knew that first hand. Even though Chris often trifled with Evan anyway. Mostly out of boredom.

Aside from the occasional gang fight in the street below, or his stoned and completely inebriated brother showing up and passing out on the floor (a perfect target for pick-pocket practice, or **majjyk markers** ), there wasn't much in the way of entertainment in the perfectly ordinary neighborhood where Chris dwelled.

Speaking of gang fights...

Vigorous gunfire erupted in the street below, snapping Chris out of his anxiety driven stupor, and prompting him to investigate.

Entertainment such as this could not be passed up, after all. And judging by the volume of fire, this was shaping up to be more than just a simple shooting...

Peering outside, he could see that this was indeed, no mere turf scuffle. Judging by the outfits of some of the gunmen, it appeared that the high management of the Midnight Crew had personally taken to the field against some of the higher echelons of the Felt Mob.

There, in the center of it all, was _Spades Slick,_ the legendary mobster himself, brandishing his trademark knife angrily, and shouting some very... creative things at the red hatted felt mob leader.

Beside Slick, stood none other than _Diamonds Droog_ , the classy second in command of the crime syndicate, and, t'was rumored, the _real_ brains of the operation (mainly due to the fact that Spades' only real motivation was stabbing people). Oh, and there also were those other two guys...Chris didn't really know or care about them...moving on.

There were also some members of the felt mob present, dressed in immaculate green, as always. Chris didn't especially care about them either, back to the midnight crew. Chris had always idolized Spades Slick and for as long as he could remember, his only real career plan was to become a master thief and be invited to join the midnight crew.

Speaking of career goals, perhaps now would be a good time to get a "foot in the door", so to speak. If he went down there and made himself useful, perhaps he might make a favorable impression... Jack might even... _acknowledge his presence._ Chris fangirled at the thought. Still, before he went out, he might as well try to look presentable.

Going over to his wardrobifier, he turned the dial to "black harasser". With a poof, and lots of unnecessary sparkly dust, he was now clad in his black harasser outfit. Rather spiffy, if he might say.

As he opened the front door, he looked back to his computer, download still underway. He _should_ probably stay and watch after it, to see that there are no interruptions or problems...but on the other hand... _SPADES SLICK_...Yeah, Chris didn't hesitate for a minute.

Running down the stairway, he was already thinking about clever and witty conversation starters to win over the Midnight Crew. Perhaps he should open with a pun? Or maybe a witty catchphrase? Did they like those? Hmmm... can't afford to make a mistake or blunder...first impressions are important. Was he dressed ok? Was he over-dressed?

Finally, he was outside. The lobby of the apartment was dingy, grimy, and run-down. He was pretty sure that there were rats down here, and multiple homeless men lived outside...They were kinda the reason why Chris never used the front door. But today, he had to use it, Because _SPADES SLICK_ , that's why.

Tentatively opening the door, Chris peeked out, to see that there were no vagrants or vagabonds present. Phew.

Now then, Chris scampered as fast as his legs would carry him towards Slick. Droog stopped firing his gun and _looked at him_ for a second, before grunting and going back to shooting. Now, Chris was right. Behind. Slick. He hesitated, not sure how to get his attention without looking desperate, or like a creepy stalker (please disregard the scrapbook of Spades Slick memorabilia under his bed...).

After a few seconds of standing behind him, Chris cleared his throat.

"Ahem,"

Nothing happened. Slick continued shouting things at the felt mob, Droog kept shooting, the others kept doing whatever it was that they were doing.

Frowning, Chris leaned forward, and tugged on his sleeve. Slick immediately whipped around brandishing his knife threateningly. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to startle a highly aggressive mob boss, Chris realized. Still, he had Slick's attention now, might as well use it.

Smiling, he started, taking great pains to keep his speech unslured and tidy,

"Hi there"

Slick just stared at him.

Mildly unnerved, he flashed a winning smile and continued,

"Er... I'm a big fan of your organization and I was wondering if you guys had any...um...Job Openings...?"

Slick continued to blankly stare at him.

"Umm... you know, like an internship or something?" Chris whimpered, smile slowly fading. This was bad, Slick didn't seem impressed or interested... the situation was going downhill. Chris needed some way to salvage things, and fast.

"Im really good at stealth and sneaking...?" No reaction? But...that's what Chris was banking on.

"Maybe I can start off as an unpaid intern or something, I can do any jobs you need... Even fetching coffee, or...moping floors?...Cleaning...Toilets?" Damn, that didn't provoke any reaction either, Slick was _clearly_ a master of the poker-face. If that didn't move him either, then there was only one option left: a _practical_ demonstration of his thieving skills. Staring at Slick's blank face, Chris had the perfect "demonstration" in mind...

Spades Slick was having a good day. He had got to stab some people, then, Droog dragged him out from their hideout to shoot and stab some of the _Felt Mob_ ass-hats. Things couldn't be better. Well, _maybe_ if Clubs got hit by a bus... that may make this day _just a little bit better_.

Then, something distracted him from properly taunting Crowbar, he felt a slight tug on his sleeve. Springing into action, he flung himself around, knife ready to introduce itself to some poor fool's jugular, and found himself face to face with...a small child.

The kid began to talk about some sort of asinine bullshit which he couldn't be bothered to listen to. He already put up with Clubs and _his_ idiocy, having _another_ short imbecile was absolutely unacceptable. Still, Slick would give credit where it was due, the kid had a nice hat. A black fedora, very classy... it kinda reminded Slick of his own...hat. Slowly raising his hand to his head, he confirmed what he had already anticipated. A scowl appeared on his otherwise pristine poker face. The little bastard stole his hat. Someone was going to die.

Chris was feeling very pleased with his abilities at that particular moment. Perhaps now, Slick would appreciate his talents. He felt a brief moment of satisfaction, Slick _still_ hadn't noticed that his hat was missing. Finally, a flicker of...anger? Was visible on Slick's face. As the mob boss brandished his knife, Chris began to consider that this "practical demo" wasn't as good of an idea as it first seemed.

Chris then noticed a sharp pain coming from his left shoulder. Glancing over, he couldn't see just what exactly had... oh wait, that knife wasn't there before.

He had been stabbed. By Spades Slick. Who, as he removed the knife, seemed quite a bit happier. Probably because he just stabbed someone.

Chris's first reaction had been to scream in agony. He then alternated between cradling his bleeding arm, and fangirling over being stabbed by _SPADES SLICK_. As far as Chris was concerned, this was a friendship stab. And today, was the greatest day ever. Who else could claim to getting stabbed by their hero?

Then, the most _**magical**_ thing of all happened, Slick spoke to him...

"Kid, you ain't half bad with your swiping skills. We may just end up looking you up later. But touch my hat again, and you die."

With that, Slick hopped into a waiting car, the rest of the crew already aboard, and drove off. The felt mob had... apparently, run off... or something. Being in such proximity to his idol kinda left Chris oblivious to the world around him.

Chris watched after the car, starry-eyed...and still clutching his bleeding arm. He should probably do something about it, or get it looked at, the amount of blood coming out couldn't be good, but he was still too busy watching the midnight crew drive away to worry about little things like tetanus or bleeding out.

After a few minutes, he went back inside. He was greeted in the lobby by a few hundred pairs of beady red eyes. Drat. He forgot about the rats, they could smell blood and were known to maul the homeless men that hung around down here. Still, a mere angry mob of rodents was no match for his masterful sneaking and Chris crouched down, biting back a groan due to the arm, and began to stealth his way past them. After several heart-stopping moments when he almost stepped on some of them, he finally made his way to his apartment, still trailing blood and wincing every few seconds. Letting out a sigh of relief, he fumbled with the keys, let himself inside and face-planted on his couch.

Now, Chris knew that there were no doctors nearby, and that he didn't have the money to go to a hospital anyway, but he did have the next best thing. The Crocker-Crop portable medi-kit. Though it was just a plastic box with bandages and a disinfectant spray in it, it was still better than nothing.

Chris opened his _**False Bottom**_ fetch modus and looked around for the med kit, which Evan had impressed onto him to carry at all times. The _**False Bottom**_ modus was a must for any criminally oriented young lad or lass, it had twenty storage slots and was otherwise a completely ordinary and unsuspecting modus. But the real secret of it, was that, much like the false trunk of a criminal's car, the modus had a second layer of twenty slots, which was obscured by the first. This allowed Chris to show people the first layer and "turn out his pockets," so to speak, while keeping possible stolen items completely hidden in the trick lower level.

The first level contained both important things, like various spare outfits, food, his spare laptop, and money, as well as assorted random nicknacks like his copy of _**Light Souls**_ and some art supplies...what, he was a _very_ artistic fellow. His lower level, meanwhile, contained some... less than legal items. From hard copies of pirated German heavy metal albums...(don't ask) to "spare keys" for his various neighbor's apartments, to his breaking and entering kit, which contained everything from a (stolen) crowbar, to a home-made (from stolen parts) window-cutter.

Chris found the med-kit on the upper level. Appearifying it, he opened it... and realized he knew absolutely nothing about medicine. Fortunately, he knew someone who did...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Happy Easter all. Im planning to have the story continue in this format (this level of detail and pacing) until the OCs enter the medium, prototype things, and go god-tier. Then, depending on what you guys think, I could do a time skip until just before the black king boss battle. Then, we finally get to the Beta kids and trolls. Anyway, I hope to not disappoint any of you guys who reviewed, and hope that you like the new chapter. Rate and Review, as always, I own nothing save for the OCs.**

While Chris was blacking out from blood-loss, Evan was finishing up with his killing spree on the other side of the planet.

Only one enemy soldier now remained, (mainly due to his heroic and valiant cowering behind a tree while all his co-workers were massacred by Evan). Looking around the clearing, enjoying the peace and quiet, Evan came to the conclusion that everyone was dead, as there were no more idiots aimlessly shooting at him. Sighing tiredly, he turned to walk back to the Winnebago, hoping that the damnable download had finished by now, before the serene silence was shattered by yet another gunshot, as a bullet whipped past his ear.

Snapping around, Evan glared at the treeline, looking for the last gunman before, oh wait.. there he is...

Dropping to one knee and sighting, Evan aligned the sights on the soldier's torso, after all, Evan's dad pounded it into his head that only fakey-fake actors and people that have never held a gun before aim for headshots. Thus, Evan sighted for center of mass and fired twice.

The enemy crumpled to the ground, and Evan walked back to the Winnebago, annoyed, and half-expecting to have to deal with another of these imbeciles in a few seconds.

Fortunately (for them) no more enemies came forward to attack, so Evan surmised that they were all dead, for real this time. Opening the door, Evan walked in, dropping his gun by the door, and grumbling all the while.

Feeling thirsty, he wandered over to the fridge and cracked it open. Using his backpack fetch modus, he captchalogued one of the filled stainless steel water bottles inside the fridge. Then, once it appeared inside his backpack, he reached inside to retrieve it. Drinking the cool water, he pondered once again his choice of modus. The backpack was rarely chosen by people due to its weight limitation, you could only captchalogue what you could carry. Most of the time, you would be stuck lugging around all your (heavy) captchalogued items all day, which, was...kind of a problem for most people.

Evan on the other hand, had grown to not mind the weight of all the junk he had in there... it only took him about...five, six years to condition his body to be used to the backpack's punishing weight.

He still fondly remembered how he started using the modus in the first place, it was the first one he had picked up to use, and his dad told him he couldn't have it because it was too heavy for him. Evan, naturally, responded by equipping it, captchaloguing a bunch of stuff, and proclaiming,

"It's not _that_ heavy! I can deal with it."

His dad, exasperated, said,

"You'll get tired of the weight in a few hours, trust me. Then, you'll come back and whine about getting a different one. So can we skip your drama just this once? Get any other one. Seriously, Evan,"

To Evan, that was the equivalent of a duel invitation, an insult to his skill and man-hood. Challenge Accepted. Thus, he wandered around through his exercises and home (or Winnebago) schooling with the (very heavy) backpack modus equipped for the next few weeks, a defiant scowl on his face.

Still, pain was nothing compared to proving his dad wrong, so for five or so years he slaved away with the modus, day in, day out, before its burden lessened, and he found it easier and easier to bear.

Looking around the camper, his mood slightly improved by the fond memory, Evan saw that his laptop had a blinky light, indicative of an unread pesterchum message. Probably from Chris. Or, knowing the thief, more like four hundred unread messages.

Judging by his sudden exit from their chat, Evan would be surprised if Chris _hadn't_ suffered an anxiety induced aneurysm in the meantime.

Steeling himself for the worst, Evan clambered back into his comfortable perch in the ball turret and opened up pesterchum... It seems that Chris did have a freakout, but for...reasons other than Evan's absence. Apparently, the kleptomaniac was...stabbed? ...and Bleeding out onto the floor!

That last one made Evan look twice. Yes indeed, he confirmed. It did indeed say that Chris was injured and in need of medical attention. That is why he spent his time messaging Evan for medical advice, instead of calling an ambulance... _Because doing that makes PERFECT sense in Chris's delusional mind._ At first, Evan was kind of baffled by Chris's foolishness in not seeking a real doctor, but, then again, Evan _did_ treat his own injuries a few times in the past, maybe he _could_...walk Chris through treating a knife wound...over the internet.

Glancing at the machine-gun he was resting his computer on, Evan was once again reminded that he should get off his ass and load it...but then again, Chris was in trouble...Maybe later. Logging on to pesterchum, baffled as to how in the hell Chris could possibly manage to get himself stabbed in his own apartment, Evan began to respond to Chris's frantic posts.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Chris?

EE: You there?

EE: Did you pass out?

EE: If you did, make sure to let me know what happened when you wake up.

EE: Ill just be here...

EE: …

EE: *Whistling noises**taps foot**glances at watch*

IC: Okim on, no needto keepbeing so uppity

IC: soI gotstabbed and ohgod theres bloodeverywhere

IC: ithrew uptwice

IC: ohgod

IC: makethat three times

EE:Ok. Calm the hell down. Deep breaths. Respond once you are in a focused state of mind. Understood?

IC: ok Ithink, imgood now

EE: First, what happened? Where are you stabbed? Is there any immediate danger around you? Where are you? Can you reach a medic?

IC: ummm spadesslick stabbedme. In theshoulder, no, in myappartment, notoo poorfor a doctor.

EE: Im not even going to ask who spades slick is.

EE: What you need to do, in any case is to elevate the wound.

IC:whatdoes that mean

EE: LIFT. YOUR. ARM. ABOVE. YOUR. HEAD.

IC: ok thereno need tofreak outat me

EE: Excellent, now, how deep/wide is the wound?

IC: ummm letme grab a ruler

IC: Erm... about an inchwide

IC: Isthat bad

IC: AM IDYING

EE: CALM. THE. HELL. DOWN.

EE: Do you want my help or not?

EE: Now then, is it deep?

IC: Definedeep

Evan really wanted ho hit Chris right now. He took a deep breath, massaged his temples and continued.

EE: Can you see the bone? Or muscles or anything like that?

IC: errr...no

EE: Good.

EE: Judging by what you've told me, it looks like you'll have to sow it shut.

IC: Thatsounds painfull

EE: Man up, pain is weakness leaving the body.

EE: Do you have anything that you can stitch a wound with?

IC: wellfor sowingstuff Ihave needlesand thread thatIused for theblack harrassercosutme

IC:Impretty handywith sowingstuff

EE: Well, that's the only good news I've heard so far. So get your stuff threaded and ready to go, and we can start this.

Hopefully, Chris could at least thread a needle without causing some other disaster.

IC: okthere

IC: nowwhat?

EE: Now that you have a threaded needle, well, you know how you would stitch together two sheets of fabric? Well, you do the same thing here, stitch the two sides of the cut together. SPOILER ALERT: This will hurt like hell.

IC: gosh it'sjust so scaryhowdo Istart?

EE: Put the needle in your arm.

IC: OHMYGOD why wouldyou tellme to dothat

EE: Do what?

IC: IPUSHED THENEEDLE IN ANDI CANT SEEIT NOW

EE: You pushed the needle into your shoulder. All the way. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?

IC: youtoldme to

EE: I was giving you a verbal push to **get on with it**!How was I supposed to know that you would take it literally.

EE: At least it's sanitized, so you don't need to worry about getting an infection.

IC: yesright let'sgo withthat

EE: You didn't sanitize the needle, did you?

EE: Sigh, you know what? I'm not even surprised.

IC: isthatbad

EE: I don't even care anymore, lets just get on with this before I break something.

IC: canwe get theneedle outfirst?

EE: Fine. Go find a magnet or something. If you can't find that, then get the biggest knife that you can find.

IC:NONEED found amagnet!

EE: Is it a big magnet? We can't use a fridge magnet to pull it out.

IC: Yeah itsbig its likea barmagnet

EE: Why in the seven layers of hell do you own a bar magnet?

IC: itlooked fancyso I tookit

EE: Of course you did.

EE: Anyway, so, put it over your shoulder, and you should be able to pull out the needle the way it came.

IC: ITWORKED

IC: Itwas themost excruciatingexperience ofmylife

EE: Be quiet.

EE: You have the needle?

IC: yep

EE: Good.

EE: So, again, thread the needle, put it in your skin, and start sowing the wound shut.

EE: _This Time,_ try not to bury the needle in your shoulder.

IC: hey, thatwasn't myfault. anywhoIm staritingnow

IC: Thismay takea while

EE: Alright then, I shall be on later.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Evan could feel a migraine coming on after his chat with Chris. Hopefully the imbecile wouldn't kill himself by accident, they still needed him for their sburb session. Speaking of which...

Clicking out of pesterchum, and navigating to the sburb download window, Evan was pleased to see that (finally) the download was at one-hundred percent. Time to contact Chester.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Chester, you there?

EE: The download is finished.

IL: Excellent. I'm done here as well. Do you know how things are on Chris's end?

EE: He's encountered some...technical difficulties.

IL: ...I see.

IL: Will he still be able to continue?

EE: In a half hour or so, he should be right as rain.

IL: That's good, at least.

IL: Say, have you been messaged by a...strange user recently?

EE: You mean Chris?

IL: No. Someone...its hard to explain. Just someone... unusual.

EE: I have no Idea what you are talking about, are you sure you don't mean Chris?

IL: I'm Positive.

EE: Well, the only people I talk to are you and Chris. So, no, I have not had contact with any other people recently.

IL: You sound like such a basement dweller when you talk like that.

EE: I am not a basement dweller. I do not even know what a basement is. Your false allegations are unfounded!

IL: Right... Are we going to set up the connection now?

EE: I guess so, I'm starting the game now.

IL: I already have it running, Ill wait for you.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Evan opened up the sburb game to be met with the house logo and a...lengthy loading screen. After it had ended, he clicked around to find a list of active players. There was only InquisitoralLogician, who was online as a server player. Evan double clicked on his user-name and pressed "connect".

Then...absolutely nothing happened for a few seconds. Soon, the loading screen of death and suffering appeared again. After it had loaded, Evan could see the game screen itself.

There was a room, with a bunch of tasteless and horrid decorations, and some...Spess Rangers...? Ok then, how much money did the Dev's need to blow to get the rights to feature Spess Rangers in sburb? Evan wasn't a money expert, but he was willing to bet it was quite a lot, and the better question being, why?

The whole place looked like some generic teen's bedroom of some sort. But why though, Evan wondered. Sburb was a building game, why was there all this... stuff here.

Then something in the deathly still room moved and Evan jumped a little. Upon further examination, something...no, some _one_ was sitting at the computer station. The fellow had brown hair and... Evan could swear that his coat looked familiar. It looked like Chester's coat, from his profile pic. In fact, the fellow himself looked unnervingly similar to the person on Chester's pesterchum account photo. But, if this was Chester's room...then how...what...why. Evan was very freaked out by this turn of events. Then, his pesterchum beeped...


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys, the new chapter has arrived! Also, 4/13 #GETHYPE, homestuck is almost over :3 ... Im...not sure what to do, once it ends... it feels like, its been there, for so long. And now its over... Anyway, I hope you enjoy, Rate and Review, and I own nothing, all things belong to Hussie.**

Elsewhere, Chester was relaxing in his chair, and feeling quite pleased that Evan had finally gotten sburb working on the ramshackle scrap pile that he called a laptop.

Chester had already loaded sburb and ran it. But, after he hit "host as server player" nothing happened. The sburb logo continued to hang on his computer, but otherwise nothing changed. There was definitely no "obvious" option to start playing. After many months spent on the hype train for sburb, not knowing just what kind of game it even _was_ , Chester was pretty disgruntled that the game didn't even work properly.

Sighing, he grumbled that it wasn't surprising, given modern Dev's and their downright _**shady**_ business practices. Musing, he wondered if sending an angry email to the creators would be the best option to express his discontent... or perhaps, Chris would be willing to try to hack the sburb developer's in a revenge strike to punish their bad game design... yes... that would be the perfect plan. Then, Chester realized that he had absolutely no idea who even _made_ sburb. The beta itself, was devoid of any company logos, and the loading screen didn't have any recognizable logos or icons. Save for that damn house...thing.

Before he could ponder the strangeness of a game without any Dev's taking credit for it, his pesterchum beeped to get his attention. It seemed that Evan wanted to talk to him. Knowing his luck, it was probably because Evan's computer spontaneously combusted or something, and Evan couldn't participate in the beta now.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: You there?

IL: Yes. What is it?

EE: Err... I have sburb running, and I've connected to you...

EE: But... something is kinda...odd about this game.

IL: You don't say. Still, at least yours is running. I can't even get mine to work. I hit "Host as server player" and nothing happened. I think the button's broken.

EE: No, I found you as a running sever host, so that can't be it.

EE: But that's not important, you see, I started playing and well... I can see inside your room... At least I think I can. If you could do some jumping jacks or something to confirm, that it's your room and in real-time, that would be nice.

IL: ...

IL: So, you can see me right now? WHAT THE HELL is going on?! How is that even happening?

EE: Err... still not positive that its you. Still waiting on those jumping jacks...

IL: Ok, fine. But how can you even see me? Are there cameras or something in my room?

EE: It's not quite cameras... more like, how it works in that The Sims City game Chris likes so much, I can zoom out through walls and see the rest of your house...your room looks really lame, BTW.

IL: Screw you

EE: What, the truth, the truth must be told. Lest we become animals... LIKE THE COMMIES!1!

EE: There is also an... instrument panel? At the bottom of the screen, I don't want to mess with it yet, in case I blow up your house or something.

IL: Well isn't that considerate. Chris would have been all over it by now.

EE: Anyway, one of the tools here says "object manipulator". It's like a mouse cursor, I really want to test it... can I move some stuff in your room?

IL: NO! We need to get back to the fact that there is a magic invisible camera in my house!

EE: Too bad

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Chester tried to message Evan a few more times, but the bastard was ignoring him. Then, Chester almost fell out of his chair in surprise as his bed slowly and jerkily rose a meter into the air. It stayed there. Not moving, not floating, just staying fixed in position there, as if it stood atop an invisible floor.

Evan, finally deigned to respond.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Wow, did you see that?

EE: That was awesome!

IL: What the hell did you do!?

EE: I used the object manipulator

IL: I know. WHY!?

EE: I wanted to... I was bored

IL: THAT'S NOT A REASON

EE: Who are you to say it's not a valid reason? It's a valid reason if I want it to be.

IL: Who are you to say it _is_ a valid reason?

EE: …Good point.

IL: You could have broken something, you jackass, don't do that again.

EE: I was gentle. Its fine, besides, is anything broken?

IL: Just...put it back.

EE: Fine, gimme a sec, gotta figure this out...

IL: What do you mean _figure out_? What are you doing?!

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Chester tried to frantically stop Evan from conducting whatever ill-advised thing he was doing now, but, as usual, he was ignored. Still, Evan didn't break his bed... or anything else...so...maybe it would turn out alright...?

His thoughts were shattered, along with the floor, as the bed suddenly dropped...right through the floor. Dust and a rain of splinters showered the entire room. This was accompanied by a thunderous *boom* that echoed through the whole house.

Coughing, Chester looked at the newly formed hole in the floor with disbelief.

Oh...god. Grandpappy is going to be pissed... How can this even be fixed, all the pipes and wiring is torn and broken...

Peeking into the hallway with baited breath, he could...still hear snores coming from Grandpa's room. Good. At least that particular problem is delayed...for now.

Now then. Onto berating Evan.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: WHAT DID YOU DO!?

EE: Wow, sorry. I tried to lower it slowly.

IL: MY GRANDDAD WILL KILL ME! LOOK AT THIS MESS!

EE: Calm down, there's another button here, I can fix this.

IL: WHAT, NO! NO FIXING. STOP! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH!

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Frustratingly, Evan ignored his repeated complaints, warnings, and threats to not do anything else. Because _of course he did_. Realizing the futility of resisting the inevitable, Chester quietly sighed and watched the hole with trepidation, awaiting Evan's next move. Hopefully he wouldn't cause too much _more_ damage _this time_.

Suddenly, a white line of transparent, seamless cubes appeared on one end of the hole, matching the floor around it in color. The line began to expand until it covered and filled in the entire hole. Then, with a flash, the transparent floor became solid, and everything appeared good as new.

Chester sat as far back as he could, expecting something to combust, or to be thrown across the room... but nothing did. Seems like that actually worked as planned. Nice.

He dimly wondered about the pipes and wires that were destroyed by the bed, and pondered whether Evan's floor-fixer tool had repaired them as well. Judging by the lack of wires and pipes in the transparent white blocks... it didn't look like it.

Hopefully that wouldn't cause a problem in the future. Then, Chester remembered, **the bed.** It was still downstairs... they forgot to move it back before fixing the hole. He briefly considered breaking the floor again, but decided that they got lucky with Grandpappy sleeping through the first time they broke the floor, and decided against tempting fate a second time.

He started pestering Evan again, so they could decide where to go from here.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: Well. at least that's over with.

EE: I told you I could fix it.

IL: You were fortunate this time. If I say something. I have good reason for it. Just listen to me next time Okay?

EE: fine

EE: BTW, when I did the floor thing, a counter on the screen went down. I think I have a limited amount of...something, the counter says "grist", whatever the hell that is.

EE: Anyway, I _think_ , it means that I can't infinitely build stuff.

IL: _What? You mean we can't infinitely produce floors? *gasp* surely all is lost_ \sarcasm

EE: You don't have to tell me if your sarcastic

IL: You never know. The internet is full of imbeciles and trolls.

EE: Ah yes, troll slaying, Knight-Hood's highest calling.

IL: OH. so you're pretending you're a knight now? I thought you were supposed to be Rambo.

EE: I can be two things.

IL: Oh. yes. pardon me for missing the obvious connection between shanking people with a box-cutter, and Being honorable and Chivalrous.

EE: Don't patronize me. Anyway, what do we do now?

IL: Well, we waited months to play sburb, we kind of owe it to ourselves to keep playing, we should also try to get Chris connected.

EE: Well, there's a delete tool, presumably it gives grist in exchange for deleted items... I could delete some stuff and boost your grist surplus.

IL: DONT TOUCH ANYTHING

EE: Wasn't planning to, least not without your permission. But... think about how nice your room would look if I got rid of those curtains... and that dresser... and maybe...the Spess Rangers...

IL: DONT. TOUCH. ANYTHING.

IL: Is there even anything to _spend_ the grist on? Besides making floors, and presumably, walls.

EE: Hold on...

EE: There's a section of large apparatuses that...look important...but they cost a lot.

IL: I guess we can try to make some of these.

IL: First though, let me check on Grandpa, if he wakes up and we're levitating stuff and deleting furniture, he'll kill me.

EE: Kay, ill wait. *sigh**impatient foot tapping**tapping intensifies*

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Chester got out of his chair and headed over to his bedroom door. Peeking out silently, he held his breath as he looked down the hall to his grandpa's room...the snoring continued...Good.

Quietly shuffling across the hall, wincing every time a floorboard creaked or groaned, Chester eventually reached his target.

Pausing outside the door he put his ear to the door and listened for the snoring, which still continued, so everything was all clear. Gently nudging the door open a few cracks, Chester anxiously peered in, worriedly looking for his grandpappy. The old buzzard was still asleep, perched in his wheelchair in the center of the room.

Satisfied that they still had a few hours in which to mess around with sburb, Chester closed the door and quietly crept back to his room.

To be honest, he was... kind of unnerved by sburb (not that Evan would ever need to know...) but still, Chester was a fellow of SCIENCE and reason. Those bizarre camera...things that apparently let Evan spy on him and manipulate things in his house felt like a complete violation of his privacy...made even more strange by the fact that they were either magic, or some sort of hyper-advanced technology that _definitely_ didn't exist on this earth... So why did Chester feel like he wanted to ignore all that and just continue fiddling around with sburb?

The reasonable and logical part of him wanted nothing to do with this definitely dangerous and _clearly_ not-normal game, and call the...whatever Canada has in the way of a secret agent bureau to dispose of it.

On the other hand, he really wanted to keep it a secret and keep messing around with it, if they were careful, there would be no harm, _right_? As he considered it, Chester began to realize that sburb was something...unique, the kind of thing that anyone only read about in books or movies, the chance to break away from a mundane life, for a while, and have a real adventure... Obviously, reason and logic never stood a chance. Back to sburb.

Chester now began to plan what things they could delete in order to get enough "grist?" (whatever that even is...) so that they could spawn some of the items that Evan had mentioned earlier.

Sitting down at his laptop, Chester began to pester Evan once again, so that their "experimenting" could continue.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: I have returned. Grandpappy is still asleep, the experimentation may continue.

EE: So... gonna let me delete some of the tacky junk in your room yet?

IL: NO! Don't touch anything! I'm still thinking about what we can delete without Grandpa noticing it's gone.

EE: Fine

EE: So, What can we delete?

IL: Well, theirs a shed in the backyard where we kinda just dump useless stuff that we don't need, I doubt anything there would be missed.

EE: Fine, mark my words though, I _**will**_ delete the crap in your room. One day.

IL: Whatever. Lets just go down already. Grandpa could wake up any minute.

EE: Ok

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Chester captchalogued his laptop, and once again quietly crept downstairs. Arriving at the foot of the stairs, he weaved though various confusing hallways and rooms until he got to a side door that led outside.

His Grandpa didn't want Chester outside, (not that Chester actually _wanted_ to be outside anyway), so he left the front door locked by a password keypad. He didn't actually seem aware that there was an outside door on the side of the house as well. Thus, Chester used that door whenever (rarely) he deigned to venture outdoors. Exiting out the side of the house, and passing Grandpappy's car, parked in the gravel strip on the side of the house, Chester went into the backyard.

Passing over the finely trimmed lawn, (trimmed through Chester's slave labor in his Grandpa's "character building" chores) he approached the decrepit wooden shed at the back of their small property.

Opening it up, he hauled out and opened a myriad of boxes so that their contents were spread across the lawn, and uncaptchalogued his laptop. His fetch modus, as always, printed out a card which read " What is the reciprocal of 345/123?"

Chester, mildly pleased at the straight-forward question, wrote 123/345 and pushed the card back into the apparatus. With a "ding", his laptop was released.

Setting it down onto a crate, he renewed his chat with Evan.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

EE: This is the shed?

IL: Yes. The disposable stuff is spread across the lawn.

EE: I never thought id see anything worse than your room, but, here it is... What even is some of this stuff?

IL: I don't even know. The squid toys are something Chris sent me many years ago as a prank gift, the lawn gnomes *shudder* are Grandpa's, I don't even want to know what the plastic pink bird is... Just delete it. Delete it all. And maybe burn the lawn afterwards. Just to be on the safe side.

EE: That's not extreme thinking at all, this stuff is so awful, we may need to nuke it from orbit, just to be safe.

IL: Just hurry up and erase it. It's searing my retinas.

EE: Ok, there.

IL: Do you have enough grist to build anything yet?

EE: Only for like two or three cheap things, this stuff is expensive. Apparently, it seems that the more expensive things need different types of grist, as opposed to the one type we have now...or something. I don't know.

IL: Before you spawn stuff in stupid areas inside the house. And punch more holes in the walls, I want you to put the equipment in the yard, here.

EE: Ok, There's three things I can spawn, the Cruxtruder, Totem lathe, and an Alchemeter... whatever the hell any of that means.

IL: Just put them down, we can tinker with them.

EE:Ok

IL: So, I'm going to put this down for a sec, and go mess around with the cool stuff you just put in my yard. Bye

EE: I wanna play with the cool stuff too, :( Bye.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Chester walked excitedly over to the three devices in his yard, and analyzed them closely.

The Cruxtruder was placed near the side of the house, by the car. It had a large rectangular box with a smaller box on top of it, there was a cylindrical pipe in the middle. There were assorted monitors on it, as well as a crank on the cylinder.

The Totem Lathe was roughly in the center of the small yard. It resembled an ordinary lathe from his school. There were some computers attached to it, but other than that, it didn't appear very interesting or as cool as the other two. Bored, Chester moved on to the Alchemeter.

The Alchemeter was the most...unique of the three objects. The device was on the other side of the yard, opposite the Cruxtruder. It was like a large rectangular box, with a cylindrical platform in the middle of the box. There was a tall pole coming out of one side, that suspended a large...device of some sort above the circular platform.

Chester mucked around pressing buttons and tinkering with the various devices, but nothing seemed to happen and he got annoyed. Evan suggested that maybe they needed power, so Chester ran over to the house and brought over an extension cord. Disappointingly, Chester couldn't find a plug-in, or anything else to stick the cord into on any of the devices. Both he and Evan were getting frustrated with their lack of progress.

Then, Evan noticed the crank on top of the Cruxtruder and told Chester to turn it. Chester ran over to it, and clambered onto the device. Pulling with all his (meager) strength, he tried to turn the crank. The crank only moved a fraction, but it was enough to jiggle the Cap covering the top of the cylinder, indicating that it could be removed.

Emboldened by a sign of progress, Chester messaged Evan for assistance,

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

EE: What are you doing, turn the crank, there's something in there

IL: I would if I could. Smartass. You do it. I can't. Open it with your magic move tool or something.

EE: Ill see what I can do.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

The whole device began to violently shake as it was lifted off the ground by an invisible force. The entire Cruxtruder began to slowly flip, until the sealed cylinder was facing down. Then, it began to shake up and down, much like a salt-shaker.

"That will never work," muttered Chester.

Then, the hatch popped open with a loud clang. Quickly, Evan rotated it back into position and placed it back upon the ground.

Cautiously, Chester approached the now unsealed cylinder, the whole situation had his nerves at breaking point, when his pesterchum beeped. Evan seemed to have a gift for these types of things. Chester jumped nearly a meter in the air in sheer terror at the cheap jumpscare.

Annoyed, he responded,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Hey, I was thinking...

IL: Why would you do that? You did that on purpose.

EE: I spit upon thy false accusations, They shall never stand in a court of law.

IL: Whatever. What do you want now?

EE: Well, while you do your thing, I was gonna delete more things, cuz there's another thing that I wanna spawn.

IL: Why are you telling me this? Just do it.

EE: But you got pissy at me when I deleted stuff without your direct supervision,

IL: YOU? Actually doing something I said? That's fresh.

EE: Look, can I delete stuff or not?

IL: Sure. Delete responsibly.

EE: Kay, responsibility is my middle name.

IL: I thought it was "danger" or was that last week?

EE: … shut up

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Tentatively, Chester reached out to the slightly cracked open hatch and gave it a gentle push. The cylindrical lid swung open into the "open" position, leaving the interior of the central cylinder exposed.

Chester peeked in, only to jump back as something quickly shot out. A Blue orb hovered above the cylinder. Chester, panicking, ran as fast as he could away from it. The orb, followed close behind.

Reaching the door, Chester tried to retrieve the keys, before remembering that he had captchalogued them earlier. Turning around, he found the orb...doing absolutely nothing threatening.

Taking a few steps back, his theory was confirmed, as the orb floated after him. Apparently, it seemed content to follow him around for now. Chester wandered over to the Cruxtruder again, to see that another item was dispensed from the cylinder. A large cylindrical block of...something, identical in color to the orb, was sticking half-way out of the Cruxtruder's pipe. Chester captchalogued it and as he was messing with the fetch modus to examine his new acquisition, his pesterchum beeped again. Annoyed, he responded

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Erm.

EE: We have a problem

IL: What do you mean. "Problem"

EE: Well... don't be mad, its an accident

IL: _What_. Is. An. "ACCIDENT"?

EE: Well, I was deleting lawn-gnomes, and there were a lot, and I was clicking delete rapidly, and the mouse slipped.

IL: What. Did. You. Delete?

EE: the car

IL: Grandpa's car?

IL: WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU TO DO WHILE DELETING THINGS

EE: oh look at that, Chris is messaging me, bye

IL: DONT YOU " _BYE_ " ME!

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: New chapter, yay! :) Thanks to you guys for reviewing, its a big boost to *desire to write more*. Anywho, I don't own Homestuck, (though the OC's are unique). Speaking of which, who else is hyped for 4/13? Can't believe that it's all almost over. Well, I've taken enough of your time, I hope you enjoy.**

Evan was sitting in his perch, warily gazing at the ever-increasing list of death-threats and other toxic language from Chester, that was rapidly filling up his pesterchum screen. Even when apoplectically furious, Chester still managed to use proper sentences and punctuation when describing how immature and irresponsible and horrible Evan's actions were. Though Evan was desperate for an excuse to flee the conversation, he did not lie. Chris was _indeed_ , messaging the hell out of him.

Since the kleptomaniac was still conscious and capable of using pesterchum, Evan thought it was safe to assume that the faux surgery went well.

Evan was still in a state of self-aggrandizement about deleting the car. It was an accident. No really, _it was._ There were so many lawn-gnomes, and they were absolutely everywhere, so, to save time, Evan just started mashing "delete" as quickly as he could, while waving the cursor around like a metal detector. That, turned out to be a bad idea. The cursor flickered over the car, and, well, no more car.

On the bright side, Chester _did_ always complain about how crappy the car was, and how for a multimillionaire, his Grandpappy always bought the cheapest and shittiest version of something he could find. So, perhaps now may be a good time to get an upgrade...

Deciding to stop procrastinating about answering Chris, and still keeping a wary eye on Chester's chat log, which was still filling up with death-threats, Evan opened up his pesterchum.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Yes Chris, I am here now, was the operation a success?

IC: errr... itstopped bleeding

IC: andit lookessown togethernow

IC: I _guess_? Itshould be good...?

EE: Well, if its sanitized and no-longer bleeding, that's all we can ask for.

EE: Is your sburb done?

IC: Yep, readytosink up withyou :)

EE: Give me a bit more, ill fix things with Chester, then I can play with you.

IC: fixthings?

EE: Well, I...may...have deleted his car by accident...

IC: Deleted?Car? Likehiscar in-game isdeleted?

EE: No, his In. Real. Life. Car. Don't ask. Its a long story, easier just to show you

IC: Hisactuall car? Ohwow, hemust bepissed XD

EE: Yeah, he definitely is, still, I know him, he cools down **really** fast.

EE: See? He's already stopped spamming me death-threats.

IC: He sendsyoudeath-threats?Lucky. Iwish I gotdeath threats

EE: You are the most screwed up person I know.

IC: D'awww, thanks. Blamemy brotherhe's abad influence

EE: Ok then, anyway, Ill contact you when I'm ready, for now, I'm off to finish up with Chester, something tells me he's cooled off by now.

IC: okImgoing tolay downforabit, Ifeel woozy

EE: Don't do anything strenuous for a while, you probably lost a lot of blood. Anyway, see ya

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Evan closed his chat window with Chris, and opening up sburb again. He first noticed that Chester was sitting on the Cruxtruder, with his laptop out, blue ball-thing merrily floating around him.

Deciding to cut to the chase, Evan messaged him,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Hey, umm... I wanted to apologize for the car, it was an accident and im sorry.

IL: ... Honestly. I was mainly pissed at you for being reckless with a thing we barely understand. Someone could have gotten hurt. Imagine accidentally deleting a person.

IL: _Can_ you actually delete a living being? We'll need to get some...rats or something and test that.

IL: Anyway. The car itself is a piece of junk. Besides, it's probably insured.

IL: Grandpa had freaking **HURRICANE INSURANCE** on it. And we live **hundreds** of kilometers inland, so he probably had something or other that could be loosely twisted to cover magically disappearing cars.

IL: He always did love arguing with insurance agents.

EE: That's good, at least

EE: Hey, what were you doing on your laptop?

IL: Nothing.

EE:Are you _sure_ it was "nothing"? ;)

IL: No.

EE: _Hiding something, aren't we?_

IL: No.

IL: Stop That.

EE: _What?_

IL: That tone. I can't actually hear it. But I still don't care for it.

EE: Okay fine, but still, are you?

IL: Nah. I was too busy death-threatening you, fiddling with the things, and dealing with that creeper who messaged me earlier.

EE: He contacted you again?

IL: ...yeah

EE: Hmmm...

IL: It's probably unimportant. Anyway. while you were being unhelpful and useless, I, Have noticed something.

EE: Stop being an ass and tell me already, what is it?

IL: The crystal...cylinder...thing that came out of the Cruxtruder. I viewed it's captchalogue card. And it has a... code? Or something on the back of it.

EE: Is that important?

IL: No other Item has a code on it's back, only this thing.

EE: Well, now what?

IL: I suppose you can start off by spawning in that thing you were going to place. The Punch-Design-X it was called...or something.

EE: How do you know what it's called? I never said it's name... :| Gotcha!

IL: Yes you did.

EE: Did I?

IL: Yeah. How else would I know what it's called? YOU are the one who can see me. Not vice-versa

EE: Ok then, so, I just put it down?

IL: Sure. TRY NOT TO DELETE ANYTHING ELSE please.

EE: *sigh* *eyeroll* Really?

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Peeved, and mildly suspicious of Chester, Evan scrolled through the item lists, and found the Punch-DesignX. Selecting it, and noticing their grist counter plummet to zero, Evan moved it to a spare part of the lawn and plunked it down.

He took some mild joy in seeing Chester jump as the heavy device suddenly and silently appeared behind him.

The DesignX, itself, was a desk style apparatus with a...typewriter? Attached to it, and a rectangular slot on top. The slot had suspiciously similar dimensions to a captchalogue card...hmmm.

Glancing around the yard, Evan could see that the weird ball-thing continued to stalk Chester as he alternated between fiddling with the captchalogue card, and his laptop. Contrary to what Chester thought, the resolution on the screen wasn't as good as Evan would have liked. Thus, attempts to spy on Chester's monitor, led to being unable to make out anything. Also, the game lacked audio, other than that crappy music that seemed to be on an endless loop. So, eavesdropping on Chester was also out of the question.

Still, reasoned Evan. All his friend was up-to, was probably not significant. Chances were, that Chester just wanted to solve the mysteries of sburb first. Or some inane foolishness like that. Some times, Evan felt like the only normal one, among his friends.

It made him want to stab something.

Then, Evan noticed something...different from when he had last observed the yard... There, on the side of the Cruxtruder, the little monitors, they were no longer empty. They read 00:00:20:00, and they were counting down. Based on the placement of the digits, and how they changed per second, Evan surmised that the clock was a timer, that was counting down to... something. They currently had twenty minutes by the looks of it, before... something happened.

Whatever it was, Evan was hoping it was a bomb. Bombs were always guaranteed to liven up a situation. Nothing like the possibility of death to get the blood pumping.

Then, his pesterchum started beeping. Glancing back to Chester, Evan noticed that he was standing by the Punch-DesignX and had placed a captchalogue card inside the machine's slot. It seemed to fit well.

Relived at finally seeing progress, Evan answered Chester's message,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IL: Hey. I have made progress.

EE: I can see that, what are you doing?

IL: Well on a...whim. I took the card for the Crystal-thing and inserted it into the appropriately shaped DesignX hole.

IL: This has resulted in the card having holes punched in it.

EE: Is that bad? Is it broken now?

EE: You broke it and we cant continue, good job.

EE: *slow clapping*

IL: Be quiet. Anyway. That's what I first thought. But look. These holes are in a pattern. The machine did this on purpose.

IL: It almost resembles one of those punch-cards used in ancient computers and "clock in" boxes at job sites.

EE: Yeah, it looks kinda... uniform.

IL: Thing is, I don't know where to go from here.

EE: Should I look up a walkthrough?

IL: NO

IL: I mean... no, lets not.

EE: Ok then, well, what we could do, is, you see the totem lathe?

IL: Yes.

EE: Well, doesn't the holding clamps on it look like a perfect fit for the cylindrical Crystal-thing?

IL:... Yeah, it does. Ill go clamp it in... And we can... Lathe it? Or something?

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Evan watched Chester walk over to the Totem Lathe and attempt to uncaptchalogue the Crystal-thing, fumbling around with his obtuse and stupid quiz modus. Then, he was struck with a sudden realization. The crystal. It was a cylinder... and, hypothetically, another name for a cylinder was a totem. Totem... Totem Lathe! It all made sense now to Evan, oh, Chester was going to be so jealous once he heard that Evan had cracked the game's secrets first.

He could see Chester had uncaptchalogued the totem and secured it inside the lathe. Then, instead of messing about with the control panel, like Evan would have done, to, you know, start lathing the totem. Chester instead took the totem's punched captchalogue card, and inserted it into a slot in the Lathe that Evan didn't even know was there.

Evan was mildly surprised, Chester seemed to know what he was doing. The fact that Chester also kept glancing worriedly at the Cruxtruder's timer also didn't elude Evan's gaze.

Chester was up to something, he knew, but, then again, the nerd was _always_ plotting something. Like the one time in... two thousand and...eight? was it? Some time around then, anyway, when Chester implemented a new get-rich-quick scheme on the stock exchange... and caused a global recession and almost collapsed the U.S banks...Nice.

Thankfully, the economy bounced back, and some companies, namely Crocker-Crop, benefited by buying up bankrupt companies. Ah, glorious capitalism. If there was one thing Evan liked almost as much as America and Democracy it was Capitalism, a completely flawless and perfect system... And if anyone said otherwise, Evan would be more than happy to introduce their jugular to a box-cutter.

Realizing he was getting carried away again, Evan focused back to the matter at hand. The totem lathe spun up, and began to automatically carve the Crystal totem, sending shards everywhere, and forcing Chester to take cover behind the Cruxtruder.

Evan was stuck with a genius thought, perhaps, with Chester busy with his nerdy plots and schemes to unlock sburb's secrets before Evan... he would never anticipate Evan launching an attack on a... different front.

Long had Evan made threats about destroying Chester's _**Spess Rangers**_... maybe now was the time...

Sure, Chester would be mad. He'd be completely apoplectic. But he would thank Evan in the future. Those rangers and other lame crap that Chester was interested in was holding the kid back. There was a reason Chester complained about getting beat up all the time, and it wasn't his high grades. Those over-glorified action figures were a menace to Evan's friend's continued social life, and they would die this day.

As he was moving the cursor to delete the hated objects from existence, Chester messaged him. Drat, he was so close. Still, should respond, otherwise it may be suspicious. You win this round Spess Rangers, you may yet live this day.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: So. The totem lathe is finished. The card is destroyed. And we now have a... less cylindrical, crystal-thing to deal with.

EE: Totem.

IL: Excuse me?

EE: The crystal-thing is a totem, I figured it out. Take that. :)

IL: Hmmm... That makes sense. Good Job. Now. What to do with this totem.

EE: Not sure, can we carve it some more?

IL: I don't believe so. I hypothesize that the "punched" version of a card is akin to an "instruction manual" for the lathe. Thus in this case. The lathe followed directions and stopped.

EE: Mkay then. So now what?

IL: Is there anything else you can spawn?

EE: No, everything after the punch-designX has a vast price increase. It's pretty clear that the first four things we put down are in their own cheap price range.

IL: Well. I'll think on it some more. You can do that too. Or go chat with Chris. Or whatever.

EE: Say, the timer is getting pretty close to zero...

Evan smirked, such an innocent statement, the perfect bait. Time to see how Chester reacts.

IL: Yes. Right. The timer. I'm going to go off the assumption that 'zero' is nothing good and we should hurry up and make some progress before 'zero' hits.

That clever bastard, making a "we should hurry up" request, without actually revealing that he knew more than he was letting on...

EE: Okay, bye then, Ill go chat with Chris

IL: Alright. I shall speak to you again later.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Now then. Time to see what Chester gets upto when he thinks Evan is gone... After a minute, Chester went over to his laptop, and began messing around with it. After a few more minutes, he stood up, captchalogued the carved totem, and headed over to the Alchemeter.

AHA! So he was clearly using a walkthrough of some sort. Evan grinned, there was no need to let the cat out of the bag yet, let him think he was winning, but in the future... Chester could be knocked down a few pegs... yes, glorious.

Meanwhile though, may as well delete the Rangers while Chester was distracted.

Mousing over to Chester's room, Evan clicked on the cabinet where they were displayed...before realizing he had the 'move' cursor equipped. Thus, when he moved the mouse to change modes, the 'selected' cabinet, and everything on it followed the mouse. Through the wall. Into the backyard. Well, so much for subtlety.

Chester was in the process of uncaptchaloging the carved totem and puzzling over a hard question, when a...cabinet broke through the wall of his house?

Upon impact with the lawn, the cabinet shattered into match-sticks, scattering the small figurines all over the lawn. Evan set about frantically deleting as many as he could find.

Seeing them vanishing one-by-one, Chester tried to recover as many as he could. Evan couldn't hear what Chester was shouting, but, judging by his facial expression, Evan could make a pretty good guess.

Then, almost simultaneously, they both noticed Lord Captain Boreall's figurine lying in the grass. Chester dashed for it, while Evan moved the cursor to it, intending to delete it. Chester grabbed a hold of it, while Evan selected it with the 'move' cursor.

To his credit, Chester maintained his hold on the figurine as Evan made his best attempts to yank it out of his grip. Chester's grip was slipping, and Evan was growing more and more frustrated with Chester's continued resistance. Chester's grip unexpectedly slipped, which led to all the force Evan was putting on the figure with nowhere to go. Thus, the figure was flung into the air. Time seemed to slow as it flew in a graceful arc, and collided with the blue orb.

Both kids stared in bewilderment as the orb emitted a blinding light and morphed to take on a new form.

Before them now stood. Or, rather, floated a strange ghostly-blue version of commander Boreall, mainly recognizable by his oversized shoulder pauldrons, and his bald head. Slightly more odd was the fact that he didn't seem to have arms... his gauntlets just kinda floated there... His legs were also absent, replaced by a ghostly tail. Much like a genie from some bad cartoon.

Evan had completely forgotten his previous quest to purge Chester's lame-ness, and so did Chester, it seems, as he messaged Evan, without any anger for having most of his property destroyed.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: Evan. Do you _also_ see the ghost of Captain Boreall?

EE: Yeah,

IL: Ok then.

EE: Is it still just floating there and following you around?

IL: I think so. I don't know why it's not doing anything different.

EE: What do you mean?

IL: The orb of pointlessness turned into a ghost Spess Ranger. And it's still just floating there.

IL: It's just that now. It's about 400^10 % creepier. Because it has a face now.

IL: I wish it would just say or do something.

EE: Are you mad at me?

IL: I am just tired now. Give me a day to recover. Then I can yell at you some more. Deal?

EE: Ok then.

IL: WAIT. Its saying something.

EE: What? What is happening? I can't hear, tell me!

IL: It's just gibberish.

EE: Hmm... if we threw a thing at it, and it now talks, perhaps if we throw more stuff at it, it will be more coherent.

IL: Ok, what else should I throw at it?

EE: Hold on.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Evan moved the camera to Chester's kitchen, opened a drawer, trying extra hard to avoid tearing the cabinet out of the wall, and withdrew a wooden spoon. Moving back to the former orb, he dropped the spoon into it.

Another flash of light, and now, Boreall floated with a spoon, held in ghostly floating gauntlet. Perfect.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Anything?

IL: Still gibberish.

EE: Dang.

EE: So now what?

IL: Well. Before someone interrupted me. I was about to place the totem onto a suspicious pedestal on the Alchemeter.

EE: Why?

IL: Well. The totem and the pedestal both seem to have roughly the same diameter.

IL: Almost as if the Alchemeter's pedestal was designed for something with the exact dimensions of this totem.

EE: Oh, and you came up with this all on your own, did you?

IL: What are you insinuating?

EE: Nothing

yet, that is

EE: Anyway, you go do that then. But, are you sure that were doing this in the right order?

IL: What do you mean by that?

EE: Well, maybe we needed to punch the card last, or carve the totem before we punch the card.

IL: No. I think we are doing this correctly. Hopefully anyway.

EE: ok then. See-ya

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Evan watched Chester fiddle with his modus, and uncaptchalogue the now carved totem onto the Alchemeter's pedestal. Chester then proceeded to (presumably) punch random buttons on the Alchemeter's control panel until the suspended device in the center of the contraption began to glow and (presumably, because Evan couldn't hear things) make a generic charging noise. Then, the large... pillar-thing that suspended the device began to shift, revealing itself to be a type of... robotic arm?

The arm maneuvered the device closer to the totem and began scanning it with some sort of... laser? This process continued for several seconds before a flash of light emanated from the circular platform that was the center of the Alchemeter.

When the flash cleared, a blue book was in the center of the device. The carved totem was gone. The book looked...odd, it had the same strange... crystaly appearance as the totem and the orb-turned spaceman ghost.

Evan wondered why after all the hassle and convoluted challenges they had gone through, their reward was a book.

To complain about the crappy reward he messaged Chester.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: This is it?

EE: A book is the result of all our tireless experimentation?

EE: I demand a refund

IL: Settle down. We need to figure out what we do next before the counter reaches zero.

EE: What happens when it hits zero?

IL: Bad stuff.

IL: HOLY JEBUS!

EE: What?

IL: The ghost man tugged on my sleeve and scared the jeebers out of me.

EE: Why

IL: I don't know. He's still tugging and now he's pointing at the sky.

EE: I think he may have brain damage.

IL: No...

IL: I think I can see something...

EE: What?

IL: No idea. There's a bright object in the sky.

EE: Aliens?

IL: No. Like a star. But at daytime. It's very small. I can't tell what it is.

IL: But this guy seems to be pretty worked up about it.

EE: It's probably nothing.

IL: Yeah.

IL: Now then. We need to do something with this book to progress.

EE: Read it? Maybe it's the instruction manual for sburb

IL: If that's the case. This makes the _**Light Souls**_ opening level look positively straightforward and logical by comparison.

IL: Anyway. Going to scan through now. Don't bother me unless it's urgent.

EE: Okay then, Bye

IL: Talk to you again in... like three minutes. Knowing my luck. Bye.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Evan watched Chester scan through the book's pages. Judging by his facial expression, the book did not illuminate them on the appropriate course of action. Looking back at the Cruxtruder, he could see that the timer now read 00:00:10:00, or, ten minutes until... something. Since said timer had Chester worried, Evan surmised that it was probably not counting down to a surprise birthday party for Chester... Speaking of which, today was Chester's birthday. Right. Maybe _that_ was why Chester was all pissy today, because he forgot. That suddenly made a lot more sense.

Getting back on track, Evan looked into the sky, on a whim, trying to see the UFO? That Chester pointed out. Almost immediately, he saw it. A fiery dot in the sky, getting bigger by the second. Seeing as it wasn't moving to the side, it was staying still, and only getting bigger, it meant that whatever it was, it was heading straight for the house.

Gazing back to Chester, he could see him frantically flipping through the book, apparently still without having found anything useful inside it. For a few minutes, Evan sat there and flipped between the agitated and panicky Chester, who had also noticed the big thing in the sky, and the thing in the sky itself, which Evan was sure was either a falling satellite, or a space rock of some kind...like a comet. Yeah, a comet, that works.

Chester then switched to his laptop and Evan's pesterchum beeped.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: i don't get it The book is supposed to be used somehow. So I don't die a fiery death.

EE: Have you read it?

IL: THREE TIMES

EE: Three times?

IL: its a small book

EE: Well, maybe do something else with it?

IL: Like what?

EE: If I knew what, you would have already done it.

IL: I know. I know. I just need time to think.

EE: Hate to rush you, but there's three minutes and counting.

IL: I know.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

At this point, the comet was absolutely massive in the sky. Small chunks of it were already falling around town. The timer read 00:00:03:00 .

Evan and Chester were both panicking at this point. In the background of the yard, Evan could see the ghost-orb running, or, floating around, windmilling it's arms in the air. It seems that even strange orb things didn't want to die.

The timer read 00:00:02:00 .

Evan could visibly see Chester growing more and more desperate and freaked out. Without volume, the whole scene was quite frightening. Even for him, the kid who once fought a bear because his dad told him not to.

The timer read 00:00:01:00

The sky turned a hellish red as the sprinkle of a few small rocks turned into a veritable rainstorm of them. From his flying 'magic'? camera Evan bore witness to a scene of increasing devastation. Trees and lawns across the neighborhood were set ablaze as hot fragments landed in them. Windows were broken in by the small rocks, which were growing in size with every passing second. A good ways down the block, a car was crushed beneath a chunk of rock the size of a refrigerator.

The timer read 00:00:00:30

Evan saw Chester slam the book shut and stand up, a look of resignation on his face. He stood up and faced the rock.

The timer read 00:00:00:20

Enraged by Chester's defeatism, Evan messaged him, but Chester's laptop was on the other side of the yard.

The timer read 00:00:00:10

The comet was overwhelmingly close to the house. It was massive, easily the size of a one story house. Not big enough for global extinction, but more than big enough to wipe the whole neighborhood off the map.

00:09

Chester glared at it, as if to say 'do your worst'

00:08

Evan watched, trying to think a way out of it.

00:07

Maybe he could make a wall and ceiling with the 'build' tool to block the comet.

00:06

Not enough Grist. Even if there was, who was he kidding, it wouldn't stop the comet.

00:05

Ghostly Captain Boreall floated up to Chester and stood (floated?) beside him.

00:04

Chester dropped the book.

00:03

The book fell.

00:02

The book hit the ground with a gentle thud. A white light enveloped everything, and Evan's camera went black.

00:01

Evan gazed at his screen in confusion. What happened, the comet hadn't hit yet?

00:00

The comet hit.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey guys. I have returned. Dang, this is a long one, the next one may take longer due to me kinda burning myself out on this one. Still, I hope you enjoy, I plan to have some ACTUAL cover art up...eventually? as soon as Spyzee hurries it up... and as soon as I figure out what Evan's prototyped equipment should be, speaking of which, if you have any ideas for that, PLEASE, comment and add suggestions, my mind is a blank for that. Anywho, I don't own anything, other than the OC's, and...yeah, rate and review, I hope you enjoy.**

 **Tatopatato: Thanks for all your reviews, :) you are like, the best.**

Everything felt so heavy.

Chester groggily sat up in his backyard. Sleepily gazing around his surroundings, he tried to remember why he was passed out in his yard... Was that a hole...in the side of the house? What were all these strange machines doing here... Was that a...ghost that just hovered past him...What the hell, is going on here?

Then, he remembered. Evan. The blue ghost man. THE COMET.

Frantically gazing upwards, Chester assured himself that the comet was gone and that he was, still alive. Great.

Looking around, in greater detail, he began to quickly remember the events leading up to the comet. So, judging by the fact that he was still alive, Chester found it reasonable to hypothesize that either he 'activated' the book at the last second, or, Evan did something to save him.

Looking around a bit more, his vision clearing, Chester finally noticed something...odd.

The ground was gone.

That last one made him do a double-take. No... The ground was still there. Just... _the rest of the neighborhood_ was gone. The house and a small patch of lawn around it had been...teleported? Somewhere.

Gazing around closer, he could see that he was up high somewhere. About half the house and lawn bordered a sheer cliff face, while the other half abruptly stopped and fell away into... a long fall. Cautiously approaching the part of his lawn that crumbled away into oblivion, and cautiously peering over, he could indeed make out the ground... and it was _very_ far down. It seemed that the house was on... a mountain...or something like that.

Looking around, he could see many, many rivers cris-crossing the...snowy? … well, it was white, ground below. Clear, gleaming towers rose out of the ground all along the horizon. Chester couldn't tell what they were at this distance. The whole surrounding area was blanketed in a very light, fog.

As he gazed out in wonder over the vast expanse, a name ran through his mind,

 _ **'Land Of Glass And Pillars'**_

He remembered that, though he wasn't sure how he knew it. He could have sworn this was the first time he had heard that. Was that referring to this place? As a cool wind blew against him, he was reminded, that he was on the edge of a very. Tall. Cliff.

Chester wasn't _afraid_ of heights, per say, but he still didn't find doing stuff like this pleasant. Satisfied with his look, he scampered backwards, only to have his heart stop in terror as the ground beneath him gave way.

As he was rapidly sliding towards his death, he felt something wrap around him and stop his descent. He was then dragged backwards through the air, before being deposited on the lawn with a thud.

Looking behind him, he could see Boreall, standing (err... floating?) there with a goofy smile. Standing up, Chester gratefully said,

"Oh, god. I would have fallen if it weren't for your help. Thanks Boreall,"

Now, not expecting an answer, Chester turned around, only to nearly jump out of his skin as the good Captain spoke, in the trademark broken English from his Video Game,

 _ **"**_ _ **Do not frat of it, young squire! Tis' deh sovergin douty of erry SPESS RENGER to perhtect deh cetizenry of deh Imperium."**_

Chester stared at him for a moment, baffled, before asking,

"you can speak now?"

 _ **"**_ _ **Af course ah can speek, young lad, why wouldn't I?"**_ The ghost-man responded jovially

"Well. Ok then. What are you exactly? If you don't mind me asking." Chester inquired

 **"** **Ah am a SPESS RANGER! Also, Ah am yer sprite."**

"A...Sprite? Can you please clarify?" Chester asked, dumbfounded

 _ **"**_ _ **A Sprite is a guide created by a player, Ah am heer to give ye guidaance ant wisdom."**_

"What kind of guidance? So, you know where I am now? What I should do?"

 _ **"**_ _ **Weel, now ye are in dah medium, on one of deh tree planets created for you and your co-players. As to what ye sheld do, yee must first ascend through the gate."**_

"The gate?" Chester asked, confused.

 _ **"**_ _ **Ineeed, deh gate. It is deh ring high above yer house."**_ he said, pointing

Chester looked up and, sure enough, a large circle hung serenely in the sky above his house. It was the same circular logo that could be found on most of the devices spawned by Evan. Eyeballing an estimate, Chester guessed that it was about... two kilometers? Above the house, give or take a few hundred meters. He wasn't quite sure how to "ascend" to it, but he assumed that just meant passing through it. Anyway, he had no idea how to get up there, as a tall ladder probably just wouldn't cut it in this case.

"How do you suggest I go about 'ascending' to it?" he asked,

 _ **"**_ _ **Ask thy server player friend ter help."**_ Boreall replied cryptically, intending for Chester to finish the train of thought.

"Of course!" Chester exclaimed, "Evan can use his game to build something to get me higher."

"Now then," he continued,

"You mentioned planets, and the medium. What are those? I assume this is not Earth, judging by the disappearance of the neighborhood and the different skyline."

 _ **"**_ _ **Deh medium is deh dimenshun yer in now. Deh planets are created unce yeu and yer friends stert deh game. Deh planets are serpussed to reflect you as a perrson."**_

Different planets, eh? Chester wasn't liking where this was going, he asked, dreading the answer,

"So what happened to Earth then?"

 _ **"**_ _ **Deh Earth is destroeyd...or will be destroeyd... Hard ter keep track of time out here, in deh meduim."**_

"The earth..." Chester whispered, "destroyed?"

 _ **"**_ _ **Eyerp,"**_

"And... The People?"

 _ **"**_ _ **All Perbably dead,"**_ Boreall said, quietly.

 _ **"**_ _ **But dooh not grew dis-hertened, squire! Deh death of battul brodders is but a fact of life."**_ The sprite said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder _ **"There was nay a thing thee could have done for them. Now, derre is nay time tooh be lost. We must press ohnward!"**_

Gritting his teeth, 'most of the people there were assholes anyway', Chester asked Boreall what to do now.

 _ **"**_ _ **Well, squire! Thou may explore deh land and speak to deh consorts, or thou may contact thy friend and try to reach deh portal. First dough, Ah would recommend alchemizing thyself better equipment, thy enemies will be approaching soon."**_

Enemies? What enemies? Chester most certainly did not like the sound of that.

"Enemies?" he inquired,

 _ **"**_ _ **Deh various und villainous cretures that sburb will throw at ye to test thy martial prowess,"**_ The sprite said, gesturing outwards with his spoon,

 _ **"**_ _ **Dough, do not worry, deh first ones ye will face will be quite weak und puny. Exxelent fer improving thy marital prowwes. Besides, deh mountin doth delay deir advance...for now."**_

Weak and puny, heh, sounded like a metaphor for his life. Still, better weak and puny than strong and mighty, he thought. HE would be more than happy to work with "Weak and Puny". But, what did the sprite mean by " _alchemize equipment_ "? Did that imply that the devices in the yard could be used to fabricate more than just a glowy book?

"What do you mean by "alchemizing equipment"? Can you elaborate on how I would do that, Mr. Boreall?" Chester asked,

 _ **"**_ _ **I doth not know how shuch a sorcerous system works, even in all mine spritely knowlege...but, thou may find it prudent to check upon thy "cards" once more"**_ The sprite said coyly,

His cards... captchalogue cards?

Opening his fetch modus, and selecting the first item he came across, the Crocker-Crop Heater. Examining it's physical card, Chester was shocked to find that a code, much like upon the totem's card, had appeared upon the card's back. Checking various other items, Chester saw that they too, all now bore unique codes.

Looking back up, he could see that Boreall had floated off to the other end of the yard and was now gazing over the side, shaking his spoon at something below. There was likely no time to lose.

Chester sprinted over to the devices, his laptop chief among them, and began trying to contact Evan, who he hoped was still alive and kicking.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: Evan?

IL: Are you there?

EE: HOLY CARP! YOURE ALIVE

EE: What's going on, I got disconnected from you,

IL: No time to explain. Enemies are coming. I'm in space...I think.

IL: And I need you to help alchemize weapons and stuff to repel them.

EE: ...is that all?

IL: And Boreall actually talks now.

EE: Great, lets do this.

IL: Really? That's your response? No confusion? No curiosity?

EE: Meh, I've seen weirder.

IL: …Whatever. So. How do we re-connect?

EE: idk, try opening sburb and connecting to me, or something.

IL: Alright then.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Chester hung up on Evan, and navigated to the sburb directory to find, to his surprise, that the game was still running. Not really in the mood to question it, he just went to the active players screen, where he saw only **EnragedExtremist** in the lobby. Clicking on him, and pressing 'reconnect', Chester waited for something to happen, while the stupid loading animation played.

As far as he could tell, they probably just needed to follow the same procedure to alchemize stuff. Get totem, get code, carve totem, place on alchemeter, … , receive item? As he thought about it, he realized there were two problems.

Firstly, he had no idea how to get more totems. Secondly, the whole procedure was about making items from a totem and a code... but he only had codes for things that he already had in his fetch modus... so it could only _really_ be useful for duplicating stuff that was already on hand. Now if he had something like a _pictionary_ modus on the other hand... Sigh, this pop-quiz modus was really lucky no replacements were around.

Chester decided to, as discretely as possible, consult his "advantage" about the situation. Opening " ", and browsing to a cached version of some obscure walkthrough site, he found what he was looking for, a walkthrough to the opening stages of sburb.

He found it earlier, while Evan was depositing items in his backyard. It was written by **TentacleTherapist** , which was obviously a pesterchum account, but the odd thing was, when he tried to search the username to contact the author, the account search came up empty. The username was never used. Strange.

Speaking of odd pesterchum occurrences, he was suddenly reminded of the creepy fellow who messaged him. The person mentioned the medium, which, if Chester was not mistaken, was what Boreall-sprite called this place. The mystery user spoke as if Chester's entrance into the medium was predetermined... which was kinda creepy. What was it he wanted from him again? Oh, yeah, " Once you enter the medium, seek out your... Denizen?" or something like that. Chester made a mental note to ask Boreall what a "denizen" was, and whether it would be a good idea to seek it out.

Creepily prophetic or not, Chester most certainly _did not_ , trust the strange user.

Anyway, he returned to the walkthrough.

According to TentacleTherapist, the Cruxtruder would produce infinite amounts of totems. Of more interest, was the fact that, apparently, the Punch-DesignX could be used to fuse items by combining the codes from two cards, resulting in a unique, fused item. Hm. Useful.

Meanwhile, it appeared that the loading had finished and they were connected. Going back to messaging Evan, Chester began to write,

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: You have connected?

EE: yep,

EE: So, do you know what to do now?

IL: Yes. The Punch-DesignX lets us combine items by using their codes.

IL: And the Cruxtruder apparently has infinite numbers of totems.

EE: Great, now what?

IL: I guess we make weapons and stuff.

IL: I'll be honest. No idea how to start.

EE: Well, how bout you take my last birthday present, and fuse that with something.

Chester immediately knew what Evan was referring to. The item he sent for Chester's birthday last year was awesome... and probably illegal in Canada. When Evan had heard that Chester didn't own even a _single_ gun, he immediately decided to rectify the situation... Despite any protests to the contrary.

Somehow... Evan had acquired a burst-auto combat rife and ammunition, and decided to mail it to Chester.

Despite no mail offices existing in North Korea, and the fact that sending an unlicensed gun in the mail was probably illegal, Evan still found a way around all that.

Early in the morning on his birthday, Chester woke up to scratching at his window. Apparently, it was a carrier pigeon.

No...many carrier pigeons... all tied to a cardboard box? Chester let them in, and thus, received an assault weapon and a few clips of ammunition for it.

He kept it hidden under his bed ever since. Not like it had a return address or anything.

IL: You know. That might work. Ill go get it.

IL: What should I fuse with it?

EE: How bout a chainsaw?

IL: That's terrible. No. Just no.

Remembering what the guide said about fusing things, and how it sometimes combined the "symbolic" properties of objects, and not just their physical characteristics. Like how TentacleTherapist described fusing knitting needles with a grimoire of black magic, to create magic wands. So, perhaps if Chester fused his gun with something like... a Spess Ranger model that used a pulse cannon, it would turn the rifle into a plasma gun...or something.

IL: Still though, I have something in mind...

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Chester put down his laptop and began combing the grass for the Spess ranger model. Upon finding it, he captchalogued it. He then decided that the fusing process would be more efficient if he got all the stuff he meant to combine first. Thus, he ran over to the house to get various things from his room. Before entering, he stopped himself, remembering his grandpappy. He was a heavy sleeper, but there was no way he could have slept through all the chaos of the past while. Old buzzard was probably prowling the halls even now... This would need to be done stealthily...

Gently opening the door, and wincing at every resulting creek and groan from the hinges, Chester crept inside.

Once in, he crept down the hall into the living room. Pausing at the entrance, he gazed around the interior of the house, spotting his grandpa rolling his wheelchair to his ground floor office. He rolled in and closed the door behind him.

Realizing that now that Grandpa was in his office, this may be the best time to get up stairs, Chester quietly lad-scampered up the carpeted stairs. Halting at the top, he listened intently for any sign of being discovered... Nope, everything's good. He stalked his way down the hall and into his room.

Closing the door behind him, regarding Evan's hole in the wall with annoyance, Chester began captchaloguing anything that he thought may be useful or cool to combine. Reaching under his bed, he captchalogued the rifle and ammo. Going over to a shelf, he got a SPESS RANGER helmet, as well as a tablet he planned to fuse with it, which would, (hopefully) result in a helmet with integrated computer screens. His copy of the Fictionomicon was also grabbed, to imbue something with spooky supernatural powers... or something like that. Evan's present from _two_ years ago, a police grade stab-proof vest, was taken from it's resting place at the back of the closet. He also captchalogued some clothes and a blue scarf from his closet, though, those were mostly just for style.

As he was finishing up, he heard a sound that froze his blood. The Chair lift on the stairs. It was in use. Grandpappy was coming upstairs. Uh-oh.

Panicking, and with his only way downstairs, Chester concluded that the most reasonable option was to climb out the window. The hole, after all, had splinters and things. Chester _hated_ splinters.

Scampering over to the window and cracking it open, all his items secure in his fetch-modus, he raised the window and began to climb through it. When he was fully on the outside of the building, hanging on only by his fingers, was when he realized his blunder. There were no hand or foot-holds on the outside of his house. For a second, he just dangled there, and then to compound the situation, the window fell shut. On his fingers. Ouch.

Then, he fell two stories to the ground. Ouch x2.

Groaning, he flexed his fingers and, to his relief, found nothing broken. (Though they hurt like hell) Then, his laptop beeped.

Wandering over, he found a message from Evan,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: What the hell was that?

EE: I was chatting with Chris while keeping an eye on things,

EE: And I just see you open your window, and fall out of it

EE: XD

EE: What is wrong with you?

IL: Shut up.

EE: Do you have the things? Namely my gun, you NEED the gun.

IL: Yes. I have the things.

EE: Are you gonna make a chainsaw gun?

EE: When I get into the medium, I want a chainsaw gun.

IL: No. That's dumb. I. Am going to make an energy weapon.

EE: That's it? You're so lame, BOOOOOOO

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Trying to ignore Evan, Chester walked over to the Cruxtruder and looked inside the cylinder. Sure enough, another totem awaited. Captchaloguing it, he wandered over to the Punch-DesignX and looked at the cards containing the rifle, and the Spess Ranger. The device had a pair of terminals where, according to the tutorial, the two item codes went. Entering the Ranger card's code into one of the terminals, he then input the rifle card's code into the other terminal.

After activating the machine, a piece of paper was ejected with the new code on it. Taking it, along with the totem to the totem lathe, Chester once again inserted and strapped down the totem, and entered the code into the lathe. The machine spun up, and carved the totem into a new shape. He then took it over to the Alchemeter and placed it on the pedestal. Pressing the activation button, he was interrupted by his pesterchum beeping,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Hey, I don't know if you realized, but using the Alchemeter to make things costs grist.

IL: Do we have enough?

EE: Well, the car gave us a lot of grist. Even some of the other, special types.

EE: So, we have quite a bit for now.

EE: Craft to your heart's content.

IL: Also. I just remembered to tell you. I need to "ascend" or something through the portal up there above the house.

IL: So Boreall said that the easiest was is to just build the house up until I can walk through.

EE: That will require a lot of grist, repairing the floor in your room almost bankrupt us.

IL: _Really?_ And who's fault was that, pray tell?

EE: ...I blame the communists

IL: Of course you do.

IL: Look. Can I just craft things now? Why don't you make yourself useful and use your majjyk camera to scout for these enemies.

EE: Fine, You're boring,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Happy at no further interruptions, Chester slammed the button. The arm extended from the Alchemeter, scanned the totem, and a flash of light occurred.

When his vision cleared, the totem was gone, and, in the center of the Alchemeter, lay a gun. It wasn't a copy of the rifle Evan sent him, though the similarity was visible. The most noticeable differences were the completely reconfigured barrel, and the glowing tubes running along the barrel and stock, humming with barely contained power. SUCCESS!

Captchaloguing it, Chester was extremely anxious to try it out. As he went to appear it, he was once again, stopped by his modus, which printed out another quiz card.

"What was the Date of Alfred Hitchcock's death?" it read.

Puzzling over the sheer randomness of the questions it asked sometimes, Chester searched it up on . Apparently, he died in April 29, 1980. Hmm. Who knew?

Entering the date into the fetch-modus, Chester was rewarded with the lazer gun.

Ecstatically, and throwing caution to the wind, he pointed it in the air, and squeezed the trigger. The resulting flash of light and heat nearly blinded him. When, after a minute he could see again, he saw that the garden shed was...smaller than it was before. Almost a quarter of the diminutive structure was...just gone. Nothing remained but a glassy, charred crater...Grandpa was going to be pissed...that is, if he _ever_ went outside and saw it, that is.

So, he could conclude, the gun really did fire blasts of...something, as a result of the Spess Ranger component in the fusion. Great. Now he could move on to other stuff. Though, he did add a mental note to fuse some sunglasses with his helmet to avoid blinding himself every-time it fired.

The fusion process repeated itself several more times, Chester taking great comfort in the... quiet and serenity of the monotonous and repetitive process. The Spess Ranger replica helmet was fused with his laptop, which resulted in the sleek and cool helmet now gaining an integrated wifi antenna, and toggle-able computer screens in the eye pieces. Chester immediately put it on.

On a spur of the moment idea, he took off his tan coat, and captchalogued it. He then underwent the lengthy procedure to fuse it with Evan's stab-proof vest. The resulting coat was now visibly identical, but was now comprised of a rough, tensile material. Then, on a whim, he fused the new coat, with the code from the Spess Ranger model. The result was, just as planned, more protective qualities for the coat. Sadly, it did not turn into power-armor, but it did gain thick shoulder pauldrons, from the same stab-proof material as the rest of the coat.

Chester then thought it would be a _great_ idea to fuse his blue scarf, and the code for his laptop. After the monotonous setup, the result was the same light blue scarf, with an imbedded computer, capable of accessing the internet and pesterchum. Wonderful. One can never have too many computers, after all. He immediately tossed on the scarf, underneath the coat.

Lastly, he found himself staring at his fetch-modus, and pondering what to do with the Fictionomicon. Then, it hit him. The dark book of black majjyk and evil that TentacleTherapist fused with the knitting needles turned them into magic wands that contained powerful black majjyk... perhaps fusing it with his lazer gun would result in something... interesting.

Even then though, Chester wasn't stupid enough to sacrifice his only copy of the unique lazer gun in the fusion, so, he captchalogued it, and wrote down the code on it's card. This way, if everything worked out, he would have the original, as well as the new black majjyk gun. While he was in his modus, Chester noticed that the lazer gun, as well as all other fused weapons had names. The gun was called a "Plasma Rifle". If that thing that vaporized his shed was a rifle, Chester felt fortunate he didn't fuse a miniature with plasma _cannon_ to the rifle by accident. Still, having obtained the code, he was ready for fusing, or, _prototyping,_ as TentacleTherapist called it.

In hindsight, perhaps fusing a demonic book with a SI-FI lazer gun wasn't the wisest course of action.

Still, as Boreall would say, _ **"DERRE WAS NO TIME TER BE LOST"**_ , as Chester would say, "for progress and SCIENCE!" and, as Evan would say, if he were here, "Don't be a wuss, just do it." Thus, Chester set everything up, and pressed the button.

The bright light that accompanied all previous prototypings was noticeably dimmer and more ominous. Before Chester could wonder what that meant, he was buffeted by a wave of... he couldn't really describe it, the words that came close were; coldness, suffering, hatred, fear, malice, and despair. He began to shiver, despite his coat and scarf, and the warm climate. Then, he looked up at the gun that lay upon the Alchemeter.

He immediately wished he hadn't.

The gun was... evil. That was the only word that came to mind. It was as if it sucked the light and warmth out of it's surroundings. Grey ghostly mist congregated and shimmered around it, Chester could swear that he heard alternating whispers and screams emanating from it. It made him want to get as far away from it as possible, curl up, and cry.

It was perfect.

Chester wasn't stupid, he had more than a vague notion of what prototyping the Fictionomicon with something could create, but he was fairly certain that something this terrifying to it's creator, would be even more horrifying to it's enemies. He looked back at it, to find that it was less... painful to look at now. Strange, he mused... it was as if with every passing moment, he was growing more accustomed to it, and less fearful.

More paranoid (sane) individuals might have freaked out at that point, convinced that the weapon was trying to manipulate them into taking it, but Chester was... well, he _was_ paranoid and cynical, but he was sure the weapon was harmless...for him anyways.

Thus, he walked nervously upto it, and captchalogued the thing. Immediately, the tension in the air dissipated, and the warmth returned.

Examining his fetch modus, and viewing a 3D model of it on the modus's screen, he could see that, once one got past all the scary ghost smoke and whispers, the gun looked pretty sweet. It was like the Plasma Rifle, except it now had a longer barrel and a scope. The rifle's glowing energy tubes were now filled with what looked like... lightning? Small decorative skulls covered a lot of it's surface, and the muzzle was framed with an ornate silver dragon head. The name tag on it read _**UNDERTAKER**_.

Chester wouldn't lie, he found this thing to be really cool. But mainly he couldn't wait to show it to Evan and try to scare the hell out of him. Hopefully the mind-violating side-effects persisted through computer screens...

Speaking of Evan, it seems the fellow was pestering him right now.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Oh wow.

IL: What?

EE: You look like a tool.

EE: Your outfit is so awful, the English language fails to describe how bad and tacky you look.

IL: I think this costume is cool.

EE: Of course _you_ would, you thought your _bedroom_ looked fine.

EE: Even people in the eighties didn't decorate that badly, or, so my dad, and High School Musical say.

Evan lived in the _literal_ boonies. Thus, he never went to school. Or had anything resembling a normal childhood. Thus, his only knowledge on human interactions came from his dad, and bad movies in the Winnebago.

IL: I… Just what do you want?

EE: Oh yeah, right, your outfit was so bad it distracted me.

EE: The enemies are, like, right about to reach your house.

IL: Did you see them? How many are there?

EE: Calm down, they are small black bi-pedal creatures. They are like, four feet tall, and kinda scrawny.

EE: Boreall was...fighting them, I guess? He'd like levitate those horrid lawn-gnomes and launch them down the mountain.

IL: Levitate... That's a new one. Say. You can move objects. How about you select something heavy. And start hitting them with it.

EE: Hmmm... sounds fun, Ill do it. What do you want me to grab?

IL: Since you've already demolished my room. Just go ahead and grab the other cabinet in there.

EE: Mkay, are your things in order?

IL: Should be.

EE: Good luck then, (not that you'll need it, these things are so pathetic, it's kinda funny)

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

With that, Evan logged off. Chester, deciding to test the Undertaker first, uncaptchalogued it, going through the irritating song-and-dance routine that the pop-quiz modus insisted on. This time, it asked about the capital of the Roman Empire. Chester entered "Rome". This was correct, and the modus released the Undertaker rifle.

The undertaker was... less horrifying than the first time Chester saw it. Now, holding it in his hands, the unnatural and evil aura around the weapon seemed to calm and abate. Whether it was due to being wielded by it's master, or because it was trying to lure him into a false sense of security, Chester didn't know. Though, he did hope for the former.

Deciding to test it _before_ entering combat, he aimed at a patch of the lawn, and pulled the trigger.

For a split second the horrible feeling was back. A flash of ghostly, blue light was launched from the barrel's mouth, and flew towards the lawn, accompanied by a spine-chilling wail.

When the bolt connected with the ground, it blasted a soccer-ball sized crater in the lawn. Much of the soil in the crater had been turned to ashes. The grass immediately around the point of impact began to rapidly decay, changing from a healthy green, to a sickly yellow, before becoming a muddy brown, and then fading to a life-less gray.

Truly, this was a pretty sweet weapon, who needs chainsaw guns when you had this thing. Which fired... soul energy?...or something like that? Chester wasn't sure just what it actually shot, it certainly wasn't bullets, or plasma, so it had to be some... dark majjyks?

As he continued to think on this, Boreall rounded the corner of the house, shouting,

 _ **"**_ _ **Deh Enemies Approach! ARM DEH SECUND LIEN OF DENFENCE! ENGAGE RAMMING SPHEED! TARGET STEHL REIN!"**_

The sprite then proceeded to float past Chester, and...keep going? Straight around the house, and... out of sight...ok then. Chester didn't need his help anyway.

Cautiously, he walked over to the other side of the house, where Boreall came from. Behind him, he dimly noticed his cabinet trying to make it out of the hole in his room, Evan seemed to be having a tough time trying not to _further_ damage the house.

Chester was pretty anxious about fighting these things, whatever they were. Evan and Boreall-sprite talked about fighting them, with the implication of killing the things, being left unsaid. Chester was... pretty uneasy about killing things.

As he rounded the corner, his weapon drawn and fixed ahead, eyes scanning everything around him, off by the cliff edge, something moved.

Chester immediately answered by aiming the undertaker at it, and pulling the trigger until whatever it was stopped moving. Pausing a moment, and seeing as nothing leapt out at him, he went closer. He saw, like Evan said, a...black...thing. It was short, and, certainly humanoid, but it was definitely not human. Quite hideous, too. It had a snarl on it's face and lots of sharp teeth. Due to it's size though, it did not look menacing in the slightest. It was wearing...something resembling a perverted and poorly made version of Spess Ranger armor. T'was kind of comical how dinky it looked in the oversized armor.

It's eyes though, held the most interest for Chester. They lacked any spark, any defining feature of sentience. This thing was certainly not sentient, and it was probably a 'living creature' in the basest of terms, more like algae or plants, rather than a dog or a bunny, only barely aware of what was going on around it, likely just created for the players to have something to gun down in droves...

Oh, and there was a massive, smoking hole in it's chest. Which it didn't even appear to notice. The thing stopped squirming after a few seconds, and exploded, showering the area in grist. Fortunately for Chester, (and likely a point of complaint for Evan) the thing didn't seem to bleed, it just faded away with wispy black smoke.

The grist objects, which kinda looked a bit like Crocker-Crop's patented fruit gusher candies, hovered a little bit above the ground for a few seconds, before fading away. Chester remembered TentacleTherapist mentioning that grist will just fade away and go to a player's grist storage.

So, Chester concluded gleefully, he had no problem killing these things, and they dropped grist. Now the giant house to the portal plan could continue _without_ grist shortages.

Unbeknownst to him, another small black thing had snuck-up on him, and was likely planning on...clawing him? When a large wooden cabinet fell out of the sky and crushed it into the ground. Grist sprayed everywhere.

It seemed that Evan had successfully extricated the cabinet through the hole, Chester noted. Good. Chester then turned around, and froze.

Before him, arrayed in a haphazard manner, were almost thirty or forty of the...hmmm, calling them small, black things was too awkward to think... hmmm,what would be a good name for them... goblins...no... runts...no, but close... imps?...hmmm, that might work, actually. Thus, the small runty creatures were now dubbed 'imps'.

Oh, right, back to the problem at hand. Chester _did_ have a tendency to go on weird tangents at the worst possible moments. Glancing back at the floating cabinet, and assuming that Evan had his back, Chester turned to face the disorderly mob of imps, who were visibly frightened by the Undertaker, and leveled the weapon at them.

Before anything could happen, they became aware of a...noise in the distance. One that _wasn't_ the Undertaker's incessant ghostly whispering. It slowly began to increase in volume, but Chester still couldn't make it out. The imps were starting to huddle together nervously, Chester could totally see now what Evan meant by 'pathetic enemies'.

Then, finally, they could make it out. As Chester heard the shout,

 _ **"**_ _ **STHEEEEE**_ _ **EEEEEEEEEEEEEE**_ _ **EEEEEEEEL REIN!"**_

Boreall-sprite suddenly leapt off the roof, and dove head first into the enemy ranks. Taking the example, the floating cabinet launched itself at the enemy, sending multiple imps flying off the edge on impact. Shrugging, Chester raised the Undertaker and began blasting away indiscriminately. They were going to get so much grist from this.

After about two minutes, all the imps had either fallen off the mountain to their deaths, been crushed by the cabinet, or blasted to ashes by the Undertaker. Chester stood knee-deep in grist. Some of the little ball sized grist particles, he noticed, had different colors, some even had unique shapes. One resembled a raindrop, but was black... oil? As they faded, he messaged Evan to tell him to get to work building the house higher. Then, Chester went to seek counsel from the sprite.

"Hey. Boreall. I had some questions for you." He asked,

 _ **"**_ _ **Ideed yong squire! Knowelege is powar. What doth thou seak?"**_ The sprite merrily boomed,

"Well. Firstly. What is a denizen? I was told to seek 'mine' out... What does that mean?"

 _ **"**_ _ **Sedly, I am not privy to dat infurmation. Purhaps an local would knowest."**_ The sprite said, pointing at what was a... settlement? in the distance, at the foot of the mountain.

"Okay. What do you mean local? Are they like the imps?" Chester said, he was... still unsure as to what a local here was. Weren't they technically aliens?

 _ **"**_ _ **Deh locels of thy worlds are culled CONSORTS, deir phisical form, like thy plannet, is a reflection of thee."**_ Consorts. Right. _Great. Very Helpful._

"Lastly. What do you think I should do now? Evan is managing the house, soon Ill try to get Chris into the session, and then Evan can follow. But now there isn't much to do here, should I try to explore? Or stay here," Chester asked, unsure of where to go from here,

 _ **"**_ _ **Do as thy will, squire. Expluration und cunsultatioon with deh locals may yet yeild valuable knawledge."**_ The sprite gestured outwards,

"Well. Alright. I feel that this Denizen... thing is important. So. I think that I will explore the... settlement? You pointed out. Thanks Boreall," Chester said, turning to go,

 _ **"**_ _ **Do not fret of it yung lad. Dere shalt be moar upportunites fer glorius combert later!"**_ The sprite triumphantly bellowed, floating back and forth in excitement.

 _ **"**_ _ **If fate doth will dat thy comerads shalt enter deh game, den dey shall."**_

"Well, okay then," Chester said, approaching the cliff's edge, and trying to find the optimal route down.

"Thanks Borall,"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys, apologies for the late update. Suffice it to say that circumstances beyond my control will be messing with my schedule for about two more weeks. It is somewhat likely that I may get another chapter up in that time, but don't get your hopes up. After that though, ill be able to resume my normal once-a-week schedule. Still though, I hope you all like the new Chapter, and don't worry, this is the last Chester chapter for a while. Also, we have new cover art, courtesy of the ever talented Spyzee. Shame that we had to squeeze it down to this practically un-seeable size to fit it on the site. The full size one is way better, I swear. If you want, you can check it out on his steam page. Anyway and without further ado, the chapter:**

 **(I own nothing, save for the OC's)**

The sun gently shined through the light fog that carpeted the ground. Meanwhile, Chester was currently attempting to find a reasonably safe way to get down the mountain without killing himself.

Glancing back, he could see his house slowly getting taller and taller, as Evan kept adding new levels to it with sburb's design tools. Hopefully, the psychopath wouldn't cause any _further_ damage while Chester was away. Still, he decided to make this quick. Chester's primary goal now was to track down some of these... 'consort' creatures, and extract whatever information he could from them. Then, Evan would hopefully have built the house high enough to make ascension through the portal a breeze. Also, Boreall-sprite was around there... somewhere. After the pep-talk, the...boisterous sprite just took off somewhere. Blasted ghost just couldn't keep still for over a minute, could he? Chester thought.

Glancing back to the hill, Chester tried to walk down the mountain, which resulted in an awkward shuffle/slide/fall on some loose gravel, which propelled him a good ways down the mountain in a few seconds. Fortunately, he soon slowed down, and eventually stopped on a flat ridge section of the mountain. On the downside though, while sliding, he fell over and spent half the slide on his face. Ouch.

Getting up and dusting himself off, feeling quite thankful for his helmet, Chester walked over to the edge of the ridge, and was relieved to see that the mountain was significantly less steep.

Hefting the Undertaker over his shoulder (because the quiz modus was a little too... cumbersome for quickly retrieving weapons) Chester proceeded down the hill at a leisurely walk.

As he continued down the slope, beginning to just enter the fog layer, he began to see imps scattered across the landscape... including...some new variants of imps... ones that were taller, and different. Oh well, the Undertaker could handle it. Hopefully.

Some of the little buggers tried to abjure him via combat, Chester absentmindedly blasted them away with the Undertaker, letting the resulting shower of grist fade away to whatever majjyk place it was stored. No doubt, Evan would be happy to see the grist counter rise a bit, particularly at the rate he was burning through the stuff. Glancing back, Chester could see his house begin to resemble an apartment tower, rather than a two story town-house. Although, there was still quite a way to go before it reached the runic portal in the sky.

Chester then scanned the horizon, which he noticed, was rather difficult to do, what with the fog engulfing everything. Still, he could make out some obviously artificial structures at the base of one of the large pillars. Thus, lacking better destinations to go, he decided to search for locals there.

Another few imps and their new-found taller friends tried to assault him, only to once again be met with a flurry of majjyk blasts from the undertaker's dragon-head barrel. Chester was growing more and more used to the thing. It was only twenty minutes since Chester had crafted the thing and nearly had a heart-attack when he first looked at it, and now he was cradling it in his hands without complaint. Though, if the bloody ethereal whispers would shut the hell up, that would be nice.

Chester continued walking, he heard a crunch from beneath his feet. Looking down, he saw that the mountainous rocky region had ended, and he was now standing upon the "white" ground that he saw from up above. Contrary to his thoughts, the white stuff wasn't snow. Kneeling down, and running a gloved hand along the ground, he realized what the mystery white, powdery substance was... Glass.

The entire floor of the planet, it seemed, was comprised of a layer of very finely crushed glass... most strange.

Shrugging, Chester glanced around, before once again sighting the structures he saw from the mountain. They were definitely _not_ natural.

A few hundred meters away from him, nestled at the foot of the mountain, lay what appeared to be a small... Bavarian? German? Village, complete with fancy roof decorations and cobblestone streets. Chester counted about nine or ten small picturesque houses in total.

Again, most strange. ' _Why was this even a thing'_ , he wondered as he cautiously approached. Getting closer, he still could not see a sign of any life. Chester would have welcomed even more imps at this point, to relieve the monotony.

Then, from behind a building, something darted out.

Immediately reacting and leveling the Undertaker at it, Chester was...surprised to find that it was not an imp or some other enemy.

For starters, imps, and their fellow creatures that he hadn't bothered naming yet, had very similar and specific characteristics. They all had inky black, carapace or bone like skin, almost cartoonishly pathetic scowls on their faces, and all were bedecked in some form of Spess Ranger paraphernalia, from the pauldrons worn by the imps, to the helmets and chest-plates worn by the taller ones. Secondly, imps and their ilk had two distinct behavioral responses to encountering Chester. They would either release a childish screech and charge him (to be blasted into ashes), or scamper away to find allies and charge him in a group, (and also be blasted into ashes).

This thing however, was none of the above... Firstly, it was most certainly not inky black , nor was it a small bipedal imp creature. It was...well, words kinda failed to describe just what the hell this thing was. It basically was a floating white...octopus?... something with tentacles anyway. Although, Chester was pretty sure octopuses didn't have more than two eyes. In fact, the thing was basically just a tentacled, floating blob that had over a dozen eyes, all aimed straight at him.

After a few moments of it doing absolutely nothing threatening, Chester lowered his rifle and, assuming it was a "consort", or local, he ventured conversation,

"Ummm...Hello there?"

The thing hovered for a moment before uttering, in a shrill, nasally voice

"Doooooooo yooooooou have anyyyyyyyyyy booooooooon buuuuuuuuucks?"

Boon bucks?

"...No?" He responded,

"Then goooooooooooooo awayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy" The creature trilled, before floating away, back into the town.

Chester was thoroughly confused, following the creature into the town, he noticed more of the strange creatures. Many of them were having conversations, or, rather, shouting words into the air, at seemingly no-one in particular.

"Boooooooooon buuuuuuuuuucks."

"iiiiiiiii demand haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaats"

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaave yooooooooooooooooooooooou visited the stooooooooooock exchange?"

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKS!"

"Umm, Hello there," Chester ventured, approaching one at random,

Turning to face him, (does it even have a face!?), it shrilly trilled,

"Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetin's"

Finally, progress.

"Hi there, are you guys...like, er, the Consorts... or something?" Chester inquired,

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeee liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeereeeeeeeeeeeee,"

Great. _Very helpful._ Chester was beginning to think that these things weren't particularly bright.

Trying to phrase his question as simply as possible, he asked,

"Do. You. Know. What. a. Denizen. Is?"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssss" It happily trilled, rocking side to side gently,

Chester stared at it for a few seconds...

"Can you tell me please?" He prompted.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssss"

"...Now. Please"

"Denizen iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssss biiiiiiiiig... pooooooooooooooooweeeeeeeeeeeeerful.", it said, seemingly frightened and uncomfortable. The other squids, Chester noted, seemed to shuffle away a bit when they heard "Denizen"

"Well, ok then. But, Can you actually explain what a denizen is?" he asked,

"Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig, scaaaaaaaary, baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad," the squid unhappily warbled,

"Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad" The other squids around them trilled and squeaked,

As the one he was talking to floated away without a word, Chester noticed in the crowd, a...different squid. This one wore a hat. A _classy_ hat. Perhaps, he thought, this one would make for better conversation.

Approaching it, Chester asked,

"Err... hey there, could you tell me about what a Denizen is?"

"IIIIIIIIIIIIII Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't staaaaaaaaaaaaand theeeeeeeeeeeeeese iiiiiiiiidiiiiiiiots," "Kiiiiiiiiiiiiill meeeeeeeeeee" It grumbled,

"Ummm...so can you help me?"

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeee,"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttt, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa seeeeeecoooooooooond. Yooooooooooooooooooou areeeeeeee the neeeeeeeeeewcomeeeeeeeeeeer, theeeeeeeeeee loooooooooooooooord oooooooooof thiiiiiiiiiiis laaaaaaaaaaaaaaand yeeeeeeeeeeeeeees?"

"Ummm...Yes?" Chester answered, baffled. Boreall-sprite certainly didn't meniton any of this 'lord' buisness.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee havvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvve awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwaited yoooooooooooooooooooooooou for milllllllllllllllllllllllllllenia." The grumpy squid croaked out,

"But I thought the medium was only created once the first player entered it?" Chester said,

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, Ivvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvve livvvvvvvvvvvvvvved heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeereeeeeeeeeeeeeee fooooooooooooooor centuries. Soooooooooooo Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuut Uuuuuuuuuuuuup."

Trying to steer this conversation back on track, Chester asked, again,

"So, you seem more intelligent than these others, so, could you please explain to me what a Denizen is, pretend I'm an idiot who knows nothing about this."

"The Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiizeeeeeeeeeenssss arrrrrrrrrrrrre poooooweeerfuuuul beiiiiiiiiiiingssssss thaaaaaaaaaaaaat dwwwwwwwwwwwwell on eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeach plannnnnnnnnnnnet." The squid said, gesturing with it's tentacles,

"Likeeeeeee the wwwwwwwwwworlds themselveeeeeees, theeeeeeeeeey areeeeeeeeee uniqqqqqqqque tooooooooo eachhhhhhhhhh lorrrrrrrrd."

Pointing to the mountain where the house was located, it said,

"Yoooooooooooour Dennnnnnnnnizzzzen dwwwwwwwwwwellllls withiiiiiiin the glllllllllassssssssssssssss ciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttaddddddddddelllllllll, ooooooooooooooon theeeeeee moooooooouuuuuuuuntaiiiiiiiiiin'ssssss faaaaaaaaaaaaar siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide,"

"And what do they do?" Chester asked,

"shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutttt uuuuuuuuuuuuup, iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmm gettting therrrrrrrrrrre." It shushed,

"Onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnce yooooooooooooooooooooou seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek oooooout yoooouuuur Dennnnnnizzzzzzzzzzen, theeeeeeeeeeerrrreeeee arrrrre twwwwwoooo choooooiiiiceees. Yooooou mayyy fight iiiiiit fooooooooooor greeeeaaat powwwer, orrrrr it willlllllll sppppppppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaakkkkk toooooooooo yooooooooooooooou, annnnd iiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmppppppppppaaaaaarrrt _**THE CHOOOOOOOOOICE.**_ "

"The Choice?" Chester asked,

"Theeeeeeeeeeeeeee Choooooooooooooooooooice," it said.

"Okay then, what 'choice'?"

"Theeeeeeeeeeeeeee Chooooooooooooooooooooice"

"What is it for? What does it do? Why is it a thing? Tell me something!" Chester whined,

"Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii dooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnn't knooooooooooowwwww," it warbled,

"Theeeeeeeeeeeeee choiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiceeeeeeeeeeeeee wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllllllllllll beeeeee foooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrr yooooooooooooooooooooooouuuuu and yoooooooouuuuu alooooooone tooooooo knooooooowww." It said,

Having completed his objective to learn about "Denizens", Chester decided to head back, and, eventually go and visit his Denizen...and talk to it? Was that the best option? The mystery fellow only said to "seek out your Denizen" so that was totally unhelpful.

As he was about to thank the _only_ smart squid for his help, a thought ran through his mind.

"Say, I know that I need to go through the portal," He pointed towards the aforementioned portal in the sky, "But do you know what the ultimate goal is here? What we're really here in the medium to do?"

The squid then shushed him, and went on a long rambling tale about the origins of the universe, and the frog worshiped by all consorts, and time and space shenanigans, and a whole bunch of other stuff. With visual aids and everything. Chester found the grumpy squid becoming more friendly to him as the monolog/lecture went on. It seemed the squid was happy to have someone actually listen for a change.

Chester was kinda proud of that. Being the only being smart enough to appreciate the wizened old squid's knowledge. Chris would have probably taken the squid's hat and run off, while Evan would have wandered off in the first minute to find something to kill.

Apparently, The colossal blue planet...orb...star? Thing, that Chester could occasionally make out in the sky was called Skaia. Or, more accurately, the Battlefield. Apparently, it was very important...somehow.

Upon it, two kingdoms of...Chess like? Black and White Creatures called carapacians, under the leadership of their kings and queens, waged an eternal war since the birth of _this_ universe. Apparently, there were a lot of universes. Huh. Anyway, the squid said that the Black Carapacians dwelled on the dark planet Derse, deep within an asteroid field near the edge of Skaia's solar system, while the White Carapacians dwelled on the Golden planet Prospit, orbiting Skaia. Also, the universe was a giant frog. Like all the galaxies of _their_ particular universe were within the body of a giant frog. Ok then. The squid also said that once the Lords (players? Chester wondered) began to arrive upon their planets, the Reckoning would begin.

Before Chester could ask about the reckoning, the squid shut him up. Again. And continued. According to the squid, _"The Reckoning"_ was an event when, on the battlefield, the armies of Derse would triumph, and the Black king would unleash a gradually increasing meteor shower to destroy Skaia. That would, in about a day, become large enough to destroy the planet.

Since Skaia was important, the squid impressed upon him that this could not be allowed. Thus, the lords were fated to slay the black king and save Skaia, along with the rest of the medium. The unspoken implication, "or die trying" was left unsaid, but Chester had few doubts about the results should they fail. He then took stock of the situation. Himself, Evan and Chris against an army, and, (from what the squid said) an extremely powerful king, that assumed the properties of any sprites that were prototyped.

So now, thanks to Chester, (and TentacleTherapist for not explaining that the enemies gain traits from prototyped sprites, earlier, Chester griped) the Black King would now have power-armor, courtesy of Boreall-sprite, when they would ultimately fight him. As well as whatever Evan and Chris would toss in their sprites. And they had to do all this in about twenty four hours...Assuming they lived that long.

…

Yeah, they were all doomed, weren't they.

Still, Chester thought, perhaps, between his smarts and tactical acumen, Evan's strength and rage, and Chris's...Sneakiness? They could, perhaps, have a _slight_ chance of survival.

As Chester looked at the helpful squid and began to say 'thank you for all your help and stuff', he was distracted by a commotion happening on the other end of the village. Both he and the squid, along with all the other consorts in the street rushed out along the street to see what was happening.

As they approached Chester could swear that he heard...screams? … Yes, there were, in fact, screams. Judging by the nasally pitch, it appeared that some squids were in distress.

As Chester and his pet squid, (Chester decided to name him 'Harold', for convenience's sake) rounded the corner, they saw about ten imps harassing two squids, who were kinda just floating there and quivering.

Shouldering the Undertaker, Chester sighted, and let off a blast, aiming at the closest imp. To his surprise, the blast hit the imp's Spess Ranger pauldron, and harmlessly fizzled out. Though, to be fair, the imp _did_ collapse with a facial expression like he'd just seen all his relatives slowly skinned alive, but _still_ , the imp _was_ alive.

Annoyed, Chester fired again. This time, the ghostly-blue bolt hit the grounded imp in the chest, and blasted it into grist.

Hmmm... Chester mused, it seemed that the spess ranger armor parts worn by the imps and...other things was...resistant to damage. Fortunately, (the imps, anyway) wore only shoulder barding, and their torsos were completely exposed.

Harold's annoying drone broke Chester out of his thoughts,

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Nooooooooooowwww hooooooowwwww booooooouuuuut theeeeeeee ooooooooooooooooootheeeeeeeeeerrrrrrssss?"

"Right, fine, sorry. Jeez," he apologized,

Sighting again, he fired nine more times. Three kills, four misses, and two glancing armor hits. Dang, Chester knew his aim wasn't good, what with never having fired a gun before, but this was almost embarrassing, he'd _really_ need to work on that if he would ever succeed in cultivating the 'badass gunslinger' persona he was going for. The amused chortling noises Harold was making also didn't help.

"Oh shut up," he said

Aiming down the scope, he aimed at the cluster of surviving imps, who, at this point, had actually noticed him and were scampering towards him as fast as their stubby legs could carry them. Deciding against well-placed _badass_ shots, Chester reverted to the tactic of saturating an area with bolts until whatever was there stopped moving. The imps had left the squids alone, so there was no longer any issue of friendly fire.

Sighting the first imp, and, oh boy, they were uncomfortably close now... Chester fired as many times as he could pull the trigger.

Dimly, he was aware of Harold beside him, cowering at the Undertaker's dark aura, and also of the two squids at the end of the street, who were now running for cover.

He kept firing until the street was so filled with ghostly smoke that he could no longer see. Lowering the rifle, and not hearing any movement, he relaxed and turned to Harold.

"I can't see," He whispered,

"Did I get them all"

"Whyyyyyyyyyy dooooooooo yoooooooouuuuuuuu thiiiiiiiink IIIIIIIIIII woooouulllld knoooooooowww?" Harold grumbled,

"I don't know, stop freaking out at me," he protested,

The smoke slowly cleared, and Chester could make out piles of shiny grist in the middle of the street. He paused for a few heartbeats...and when nothing scampered out of the fog at him, Chester lowered the Undertaker, relieved.

Turning to Harold, he asked a question that was on his mind since he met him,

"Hey, do you have a name?"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,"

"Can I give you a name," Chester excitedly asked,

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,"

"How does, 'Harold' sound?"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,"

"It's settled then, Ill call you Harold,"

Harold grumbled for a little bit before realizing the futility of arguing against Chester. As the Ghostly smoke cleared and was replaced by the planet's natural fog, the squids seemed to relax and return to whatever they were doing before they were disturbed by imps.

Curious as to why imps would harass the consorts, Chester asked,

"Hey, were the imps and other things...were they always here, bothering you guys, or did they just appear once I arrived?"

The squid, or Harold, now, looked at him with his many beady eyes, and responded,

"Theeeeeeeeyyyyy apppppppeeeeeearrreed rrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeccentllllyyyy, liiiiiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeeeeelllly, afteeeeeerrrr yooooouuuuu caaaaaammmmmeeee."

Oh. Well then. That made Chester feel kinda guilty, for bringing the imps and things down on these helpless squid-things.

Then, a brilliant idea hit him. There was no reason for these squids to be helpless or defense-less... Chester fancied himself a brilliant commander and all that, so it should be child's play to train the squids into a formal army for their own protection.

Nudging Harold, he asked,

"Hey, do you think you can gather the others for a sec, I have an announcement,"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo doooooooooo iiiiiiiiiiiitttt yoooourrrsellllffff," The squid grumbled,

"Fine then, screw you, ill do it myself."

Chester hopped up onto a bench and (kinda awkwardly) shouted to the squids, who were just beginning to strike up their strange conversations again.

"Ahem... Err... Attention Squid people!" He stammered,

"For too long have you languished under the heel of these inky oppressors!" some floated over to stare at him,

"Whatssssssssssss oppreeeessssorrr?" He heard one ask it's neighbor. Gulping, he continued.

"But no longer! Today. We, Shall take the Battle to Them!"

Almost the whole village had gathered to see what all the commotion was about.

"I, Shall train you into an unstoppable force... And...woe be upon your enemies?" He awkwardly finished. Dang, he really wished Evan were here. Say what you will, he had a great public speaking voice.

"Boooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnbuuuuuuuuucks?" One squid called out.

Chester sighed.

Pulling over Harold, he explained his plan to the crotchety old squid, who, immediately pronounced it as a total failure and floated back to his house. Undeterred, Chester hopped onto the bench again and began shouting out orders.

After almost an hour, he was done. The thirty or so squids that volunteered (or, didn't wander off after a few minutes, that counted, right?) were all floating around, in very...er... ill defined, formations, armed with whatever could be scrounged up (mainly mops. Some of the luckier soldiers wore buckets as helmets).

There were three groups of ten. According to Chester's plan, they would form in a line, and slowly advance into the empty plain south of the village, where a large group of like thirty imps and some of the more skinny, taller ones were.

The battle line would engage the enemy head on. Then, on an order, the flanks would push inward, and crush the enemies between them and the center, while he would stay with the center and provide covering fire.

Chester wanted to do something cooler, but alas, he was limited by both numbers and the average intelligence of his subordinates. At least this plan was so simple, a five year old could understand it.

Chester savored this moment, his first real command, and gave (or rather, shouted. Several times) the order to advance. He watched with pride as the first group of diminutive squids floated down the street. And then stopped. Only to have the other two rush into them from behind, causing a pile-up in the narrow street. The third platoon then began going in reverse. And going, and going. Soon, they were out of sight behind a corner. Sigh. This would take a while.

It took him twenty minutes to get all of them back in formation, and finally outside the village. Finally, the battle-line was assembled with the first platoon (Chester included) in the center, second platoon on their left flank, and the third platoon on their right. It was no fancy army, this rabble with mops and brooms, but it was his rabble, and he felt oddly proud of that.

With a command, they began to march...or float? Slowly towards their foe.

Chester was tense. The fog obscured most vision, and since the consorts floated, the only noise he could hear was the powdered glass crackling beneath his boots. Suddenly, he began to make out dark shapes in the fog. Not imps, but the taller, more spindly ones... he would really need a name for those...since he was using imps, might as well stick with the program and use something similar...hobbits? … nah, Goblins...maybe, that didn't sound half-bad actually. Thus, the new creatures were formally dubbed 'goblins'.

He brought the army to a halt. The enemy still hadn't noticed their presence. Good.

Chester then spent a few minutes running up and down the ranks fixing the formations. Sometimes by physically pushing the squids where they were supposed to stand.

Deciding against a rousing speech, (not like this bunch could appreciate the majesty of his word-smithing anyway.), Chester settled for a surprise barrage from the Undertaker.

Sighting on the closest goblin, he fired several shots. To his surprise, it took close to three direct hits to bring down the silhouette. Presumably, he noted, the increase in difficulty would be proportional to a grist increase as well.

A few growls, and the awkward pre-pubecsent squeaks of the imps emanated from the fog at the death of their compatriot. Chester resumed firing and managed to bring down a few more goblins before the charging enemies entered into full view.

Sparing a last glance at his army, before battle began, he noted a problem. Second Platoon was gone. Glancing back to the left in shock, he noticed that, yes, Second Platoon was, really missing. He could even see some of their brooms and things lying on the ground.

Shaking his head in dismay, he noticed something else. Most of Third Platoon had dropped their weapons and were floating and quietly singing to themselves.

It got worse. Almost half of First Platoon were facing the _WRONG WAY._

In the second before the tide of imps and goblins impacted what remained of his lines, he could only utter,

"I give up,"

The next moments descended into a frantic melee as the horde impacted on them. Grimly, Chester noted that the enemies weren't even trying to kill the squids, they just awkwardly swatted at them, as if the squid's stupidity was so powerful, it radiated as a physical mass and confused the imps.

Not that he had such a luxury, he noted, leaping back to avoid a goblin's claws. The opportunistic attacker was rewarded with a blast to the face, vaporizing it on the spot. Several nearby imps soon joined it. Then, another goblin. The melee grew into a blur. Chester shot, dodged, and hit imps with his gun. The piles of grist from slain foes mounted, but still they came. Bringing another goblin down with four shots, he dimly observed that this was significantly more than _thirty_ _imps_.

Pleasantly, he noticed that some of the squids that retained their brooms managed to club various imps. Though, that could just as easily be explained by the squids moving their tentacles, forgetting the stick clutched in it.

Another pack of imps came at him, knocking him out of his musings. He dispatched them with ease, but was distracted by them from a goblin behind him.

The goblin lunged, and slammed Chester to the ground. The gun was hurled from his grasp, obscured by the glass dust and tangled bodies of the battle.

The goblin started swiping at him, and Chester was barley able to keep it's claws from his throat. Amidst the frantic struggle, more imps came to join in, and soon he was almost drowning in a veritable sea of the inky black creatures.

As Chester was beginning to sprout cuts and gashes in his outstretched arms, and began to feel weaker, realizing that this might just be the end, the pressure weighing down upon him was lifted.

Blinking away the spots in his vision, he looked up to see...Harold?

Yes. Harold, definitely Harold. He could tell by the posh hat worn by the squid. The grump was ferocious brandishing a mop in each tentacle, and was waiving them around him like propeller blades. Chester got up and went to his side.

"Thank you," he coughed,

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII haaaaaaatttttttteeeeeee yooooouuuuu. Soooooooo Muuucccchhh."

"...Fair enough"

He then scanned the melee for his gun, which he soon found, easily noticeable by the wide berth all the combatants gave it, probably out of fear for it's fearsome aura. Running over to it, Chester rolled and snatched it into his hands.

He then dropped to one knee, and began to mercilessly pick off the remaining imps and goblins, one by one. His fire rate was abysmally slow now, but, his accuracy was spot on. It had to be. He couldn't risk hitting one of these lovably stupid squids.

One by one, they fell and soon, all sounds of combat had ceased. Most of the squids just floated back to their village. Many already beginning to harp about "Boon-bucks" or other garbage.

Walking over to Harold, Chester asked,

"I thought you wanted no part of this?"

"Yeeeeeeessssss, buuuuttttt ifffffff yoooooooooooouuuuuuuu faaaaaaaaiiiiiiillllll. Weeeeeeeeeeee allllllllllllllll diiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee," The squid groaned.

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikkkkkkeeeeee livvvvvviing."

"You know, I think you just missed having someone smart to talk to," Chester said with a smile,

"Asssssssssssssssss ifffffffffff yoooooouuuuuuu eeeeeevvvvvveeeeeennnn apppproooooachhhhhhhhhh, myyyyyyyyyyyyy vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssstttt inteeeeeeeeeellllllleeeeeect." Harold boasted.

"Still though. Thanks. You saved my life. I won't forget it."

Harold grunted and...shrugged?

"thhhhhhhhhhhhhannnnnnk meeeeeeeeeeeeeee byyyyyyyyyyyyyy savvvviiiiiiiiiingggg ussssssss froooooooooooommmmmmm theeeeeeeeeeeee reeeeeeeeeeecccccccckooooonnning,"

"Dimmmmmmmmmmmmmwwwwwit,"

"I will," Chester promised.

"I should head back," He said, "I need to get Chris into the medium as soon as possible,"

"He will have his own planet, right?" Chester asked,

"Agaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiin. Yeeeeeessssssss,"

"And lastly, Where exactly is my denizen? You said on the other side of the mountain, but that's not especially specific."

The squid shuffled, nervous,

"Theeeeeeeee Deeeeeeeeennnnnnnniiiiizzzzzeeeeennnn dwwwwweelllllllllssss withhhhhiiiin theeeeeeeeee casssssttttlllleee offffff mirrrrroooorrrs. Youuuu cannnnn't missssssssss ittttttttttttt." The squid urged.

"Well then. I suppose that's that then, thanks again, Harold." Chester said.

"Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssstttt goooooooo."

"Awww, Ill miss you too," Chester said, walking away,

"Nevvvvveeerrrr, commmmeeeeee baccccckkkk."

"IIIIIIII HaaaaatttteeeeeYooooooouuuuu,"

"I hate you too, pal." Chester said, grinning beneath his dinged up helmet, "Take care,"

The walk, or more accurately, climb, to the house took about ten minutes. The trek was uneventful, giving Chester time to be with his thoughts. He felt... not well. This was the first time that the sheer danger of this game, the real fact of "holy shit, I may die here" was finally pounded into his head. Sure, there was the meteor, but with all the stuff happening afterwards, he just wasn't left alone to reflect on it.

He felt like curling up somewhere and not moving. But he knew fully well that there was no choice in the matter. Chris's and... in a way, Evan's lives depended on him getting Chris into the medium, And later, all their lives depended on them stopping the reckoning. There was just no option to stop and panic about it.

Thus, Chester did what he did since childhood when confronted with emotional trauma. He pushed it out of his thoughts, and pretended it never happened. It wasn't exactly healthy, but, well, his successful track record with school marks and personal finance spoke for itself.

Arriving at the house, he was greeted to... something that no-longer resembled his quiet two-story house. Evan had been busy.

The house was now transformed into a towering pillar that rose into the sky like the...glass? Monoliths that dotted the landscape. It only had about ten stories to go before he could reach the portal.

First though, he needed to get Chris into the medium. He went over to the alchemeter and began typing on his laptop.


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N: Salutations, guys and gals. I exceeded my expectations, and made a second chapter in these three weeks of limited computer access. I also want to mention real quick: The "Mystery pesterchum user"_** ** _is_** ** _a Cannon Character. Just sayin' it may be prudent to start hypothesizing as to who he/she may be._**

 _ **Also, I want to give a quick shout out to Spyzee for being helpful as ever, and to Tatopatato for all his comments.**_

 _ **As always, I own nothing save the OC's, and...as far as I know, all rights and things belong to Andrew Hussie.**_

The sky over Seattle grew ominously darker by the minute.

Oblivious to all around him, Chris lounged at his computer desk, glad to have the annoying wound in his arm no longer bleeding.

The young lad was waiting for word from either Evan or Chester on what to do next. Last he'd heard, Chester got hit by a comet, and then didn't. Then there was something called a medium... and squids... and he could swear he heard something about communism in there.

Still, Chris never bothered with details anyway. As long as Chester and Evan knew what to do, Chris was content to do as they said.

Finally, his pesterchum received a message. Excited, he opened the chat client, only to find that it was not InquisitoralLogician or EnragedExtremist that messaged him... Hmmm... An unknown user, possibly a spam bot. Chris pondered for a moment about whether he should troll the hell out of him, or send virus emails to the user's address. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, he settled for the former.

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** be#a! pe #erin^g **incoporealCriticist [IC]-**

#$: _Greetings Christopher._

 _^%: My time with you is short. So I shall make this brief._

IC: Hiiiiiiiii theeere! :)

IC: Doyou wantto befriends?

 _*(: There is no time for that. I have something important to share with you._

IC: OH! OH! Isit thatIve won acontest?

IC: No! Waitis ita cruisetrip?

IC: Ivealways wantedto go ona cruise

 _$%: No._

 _& : I am here to speak to you. _

_#:You are special, Chris. More so than you can possibly know._

IC: Hey! I amnot "special",Iwas testedfor it.

 _% &: You have an important path ahead of you, child. A great destiny._

IC: Hmmmm... continue

 _*): One beyond your friends, even._

 _#: Are you willing to fulfill your destiny, Chris?_

IC: Ifthe catchis my creditcard info, Idont haveone. Itwas stolenby a hobolast week

%*: _All that I need from you, is your cooperation in the future. Nothing More._

IC: Idont know. Yousound shifty.

 _^ &: Know this. Your actions will lead to the survival of an entire time-line and a dimension. Not just the protection of one session._

 _$*: I have taken great pains to execute this plan. So I cannot disclose anything yet._

 _^ &: But know this. You will be saving the lives of innumerable sentient beings. _

_*: All I ask of you for now. Is that you IMMEDIATELY visit your denizen upon your entry into the medium. Do nothing Else._

 _#$: Is that so difficult?_

IC: WellI guessnot. Idont evenknow whata Denizenis. Chesterprobably doesthough,

IC: ...

IC: Allrightfine. Mayas well. Whynot.

 _! : A most wise choice. I will speak to you again, later._

 _^ &: For now though, It would be best for you to keep this conversation to yourself._

IC: Why?

 _$%: Your friends would not understand. They would be a liability at this stage._

 _^*: I understand this is hard. But trust in me. This must be done._

IC: OK. I'lldo It.

 _%*:You will not regret this._

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceAsed pest#$%g **incoporealCriticist [IC]-**

"I'd better not," He muttered.

Leaning back in his chair, Chris wondered just what he had gotten himself into this time. This was almost as deep a mess as the time a few years ago, when one of his Bro's friends asked Chris to move a...package across town. When he asked what was in it, the friend hesitantly said...Baby powder? With that. Chris knew that the delivery was a good idea. After all, it was a delivery of baby care supplies, what was wrong about that?

That time, the police found his eight year old self on the street and gave him a ride in their car. They took him to a room with a nice old fellow that asked him lots of questions. After a few hours, they took the package and gave Chris a ride home. He assumed they were so nice to him because he was doing a good deed, delivering baby supplies to a "buyer", who was clearly out of the stuff.

Chris still looked on that as a fond memory. So, why would this case be any different? The strange guy needed help, right? And he said a lot of nice things to Chris, so he liked the guy. There was no harm in helping him, he decided.

Just then, his pesterchum beeped again,

Glancing at it, he saw that Chester was back on, and was now contacting him. UhOH, Chris would need to act normal, or else they would be onto him, and his mysterious friend.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

IL: Chris. Are you present?

IC: yep

IC:Imhere

IC: Whywouldn't I be?

IC: Thatwould besilly.

IC: Ha

IC: HaHaHa

IL: Ok. Enough of that. Whatever the hell that was.

IC: ha.

IL: This is important. So listen up.

IC: Listeningclosely

IL: Stop interrupting.

IL: So. I will begin setting up the various things to get you into the medium.

IC: Whatsa medim?

IL: Evan didn't tell you?

IC: heprobably did,

IC: Ikinda spacedout

IL: Dammit Christopher. This is a matter of life or death.

IC: OHGOSH, PEOPLE ARE IN TROUBLE?

IL: No. Everything is fine. Calm down.

IC: oh, okthen

IL: So. I guess since you won't remember anyway. I may as well brief you as we go.

IC: ButI dontwear briefsthough,

IL: …

IC: beforeyou yell. Thatwas ajoke.

IL: Look. Just open up Sburb. Connect with me. And clear out your living room and kitchen. So I can deploy some stuff.

IC: ?

IL: Push furniture into the other rooms.

IC: . GotIt.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Chris had no idea what most of that meant, but he knew enough to open up Sburb, navigate to 'server hosts' and to connect to **InquisitoralLogician**. Then, Chris quickly went to go to the kitchen to shuffle furniture.

Now, since Chris knew Chester had never seen his house, Chris could tell that he Chester was overestimating the quantity of furniture inside his little apartment. Entering his kitchen, he pushed the large cardboard box that was the dining table off into a closet, along with the smaller cardboard chairs, then returned, unplugged the toaster oven that sat on the floor and pushed it in as well.

With the kitchen empty, he turned his attention to the living room.

The living room was furnished with only a thread bare sofa, upon which his brother currently slept, after having smoked a little too many of his 'green fun sticks'. The room also hosted a box television, that sat upon some cinder blocks.

Captchaloguing the television, Chris began to pick up armfuls of cinder-blocks and hauled them off to the closet. Upon arrival, he dumped them in there, and uncaptchalogued the TV as well. Returning to the living room, he poked his brother to try to make him move, receiving a grunt in response. Sighing, he grabbed one part of the couch, and dragged it across the floor to the hallway. Exhausted, he kinda just left it in the hall. Since it was out of the room, he figured Chester wouldn't mind.

Walking back to his room, he saw his laptop beeping again.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

IL: You are finished?

IC: Yep

IL: Excellent. So. What I will be doing is deploying two machines inside your house.

IL: Two out of four, to be precise.

IL: They will facilitate your entry to the medium. Preferably, before the comets come and wipe you off the planet.

IC: THEREARECOMMETS?!

IC: WHAT theHEll?!

IC: WHY?

IL: That's a good question. I think it's because the universe is an ass.

IL: Anyway. You would do best to remember this process. You will need to replicate it.

IL: Evan's life will be at stake.

IC: Ohgosh, OHGOSH

IL: Calm down. You'll do fine.

IL: Now then. These first four machines. Can be put in either order. There are way more than four in total, but only the first four are needed to enter the medium.

IL: They are the Cruxtruder, Alchemeter, Punch-DesignX, and the Totem Lathe.

IL: There will be operating instructions later. As of now though. Observe.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

For a few seconds, Chris stared out into the living room, confused as to what Chester was doing. Evan had explained to him earlier, how sburb worked, but he wasn't really paying attention at the time, so now he had no idea what was happening.

After a few moments, nothing happened, so he got bored, and turned away, when a heavy 'thump' resonated throughout the apartment.

Whipping around, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw a massive...thing appear in his living room. It vaguely resembled a shoebox, with a soda can coming out of the top. What the heck was this? He wondered, What sort of black majjyk tomfoolery was this?

Immediately, he went on pesterchum to demand an explanation from Chester.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IC: Chesterwhatis that?

IL: What's what?

IL: The Cruxtruder?

IC: Thething in thelivingroom

IC: Howthe helldid it getthere?

IC: Majjyks? Itsmajjyks, isn'tit

IL: What? No. I just put it in with sburb.

IL: Wait. Let me guess. Evan 'forgot' to explain anything to you. Am I Right?

IC: Er... yeslets go withthat.

IC: So, sinceEvan is aterrible friend, canyou explainit plz?

IL: ...Fine.

IL: I'll give you the abridged version.

IL: Sburb lets the client player. (me) see the house of the host player (you).

IL: Using the program. I can create. Manipulate. Or delete objects and walls and things in your house.

IL: There are also premade machines that can be spawned in. Like the Cruxtruder there.

IL: Everything you do costs a certain amount of grist. So at some point. I will likely need to delete some stuff.

IC: Thatdosent sound good

IL: Don't be a baby.

IL: Anyway. The point is to use the four starting machines to get you into a parallel dimension before a comet wipes you off the planet.

IC: A..comet?

IL: Shit. I shouldn't have mentioned that. Calm down. I need you to work with me here.

IC: A COMET

IC: OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD

Chris was in full panic mode at this point. While he understood most of what Chester said, when he heard, 'comet', he flipped the hell out.

While he _always_ overreacted to _everything_ , he normally didn't fear guns and knives and things, because he was sneaky and fast. However, one couldn't hide or outrun a massive space rock, hurtling at terminal velocity, carrying enough energy to wipe out a city.

Chris felt really dreadful and sick to his stomach. His hands were shaking at the prospect of facing death at such an age. Knowing, that his life at this point, was in Chester's hands, and completely beyond his own control.

Knowing that he needed to calm down, Chris took a few deep breaths, (ironically enough, T'was Evan that presented Chris with a way to calm down, instead of the other way around). Feeling less light-headed, he responded to Chester

IC: Okimback

IC: Whatis up withthis 'comet'

IL: As far as I know, it only comes once you open the hatch on the cylindrical portion of the Cruxtruder. Once you do that. A countdown begins.

IL: So. We will need to set up everything we can. Before hand.

IL: Ill put down whatever else I can. You sit tight for now. Ok?

IC: alrightthen

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

With nothing to do now, Chris went over to the kitchen, where, with yet another thump, another machine materialized on the grimy floor. This device was long and narrow. Quite clean, too, a marked contrast to it's surroundings. It looked almost identical to a lathe from school. (At least from way back when he _still_ _went_ to school, that is.)

With no further directions from Chester, Chris wandered around the small, smelly apartment, steeping over piles of clothing here and there. His laptop was firmly tucked under his arm, rather than in his fetch modus. He didn't want to miss any notifications from Chester. In his mind, he alternated between panicking about the impending death he would soon face, and attempting to commit everything Chester had told him to memory.

Chris dreaded Evan dying because Chris wasn't fast enough with putting the devices down, or because he wasn't economic with his grist...was that what Chester called it? ...whatever. He moved on.

Distracting him from his musings, the laptop beeped once more.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

IL: We have a problem.

IC: OHGOD WAHT NOW?

IC: ISTHE COMETCOMING ALREADY?

IC: Are YOUOUT OF THEGRISTYSTUFF?

IL: No. Not out of grist. Actually, since im not faffing about with the design tools.

IL: We actually have just enough grist for everything.

IL: But we are out of something else. However.

IL: There's no more room to put stuff.

IC: Thats aproblem

IL: Yeah. I can see.

IC: WAIT. Ijust gotthe mostperfect Ideaever.

IC: forwhere wecan putthe stuff.

IC: Justgive me a sec.

IL: ...Ok then. Hurry up though.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

When Chester mentioned that there was no more room in the apartment, Chris had an epiphany. He knew one place with plenty of room...he just had to make sure it's inhabitants were absent.

Grinning, and mentally entering 'stealth mode', he captchalogued his laptop, and ran through the house, weaving past the so called, "Cruxtruder" and the couch in the hallway, arriving at a utility closet.

Opening it up, and with expert practice, he shimmied between the pipes and the water heater, before beginning to scale the pipes, climbing upwards with gusto and determination. After a few moments, he reached the ceiling.

Reaching out, he felt around in the darkness for...ah, there it was.

Almost imperceptible, there was a small hatch, cut by him in the thin, plaster, ceiling with a box-cutter, many years ago. Preforming a flawless lad-scamper, he climbed through, and emerged in the dark, bug and mold filled gap between apartments.

He was now flat on his belly, sandwiched between two rows of pipes, in complete blackness, probably breathing in toxic black mold and degrading asbestos, but he was fully calm and even content. Here, he was in his element.

He crawled along for a few feet, going off muscle memory alone, before, right where it always was, lay a vertical shaft.

Skillfully maneuvering himself into it, he sort of stood, and began to climb, using the pipes as hand-holds, until he once again had a solid barrier above him. Excellent.

Feeling around, he soon found yet another hatch carved by him. Gently opening it, he silently raised himself into the upstairs apartment, and closed the hatch behind him.

He now stood in his upstairs neighbor's boiler room.

The water heater, and, the air conditioner in general were silent, that was a good sign. Still though, he needed to confirm the old people's absence. Creeping to the door he uncaptchalogued a handy little device that served him faithfully in his heists... a plastic cup.

Putting it against the door, he listened intently for any noise. These old farts were always either jabbering, or asleep. Chris would know, he had been in their apartment many, many times...

Satisfied, he opened the door without a noise.

Entering the apartment, he uncaptchalogued his laptop and messaged Chester,

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IC: Alright hereweare,

IC: Putthestuff downhere

IL: Err... Is this your apartment?

IC: ...no.

IL: Who's is it then?

IC: Myneighbors,

IC: Bunchaold crustypeople. Seroiusly,screwthem

IL: Um. Chris? I don't think this is legal.

IC: Pffft. Whocares?

IL: ...Law abiding citizens who _don't_ want to get arrested.

IC: Hey! Imlaw abiding. I RECYCLE! And,I don'tlitter.

IL: ...Whatever. Fine. Let's just do this before they come home.

IC: Yey. :)

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Chris then watched as in the nicely furnished living room, a large metal desk appeared. Upon its side was a...what was it... one of those primitive computers...without a screen...whatever, something like that. Chris also noticed various slots in the side of the device.

He heard a dull thud come from the kitchen, so he wandered over there next. Upon entry, his eyes were once again assailed by the sheer horror of...ornamental plates.

He didn't know what was wrong with these people.

How could any human being _possibly_ find these abominable china plates 'nice'? Chris thought as he examined the contents of one of many, many, cupboards.

Oh yeah, there was also the matter of the large...thing Chester put here. He was just...distracted by the presence of his mortal plate enemies in the room.

Taking a closer look at the device, he saw that it was a large rectangular box, with a cylindrical platform in the middle. There was a tall pole sticking out of one side, from which a large device was suspended suspended above the circular platform.

The middle platform, like all the other devices was emblazoned with the same weird symbol as all the other machinery.

Then, his pesterchum beeped again. Surprisingly, it was Evan this time,

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Hey guys,

EE: Are you done yet?

EE: Because, I, have a TEENSY PROBLEM HERE

IC: jeepers,whatisit?

EE: Oh, nothing major, JUST THE FACT THAT METEORS ARE FLATTENING THE JUNGLE AROUND ME!

EE:HURRY THE HELL UP!

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Well damn, Chris didn't know how to react to that. His first thought was, complete and total panic about Evan's safety. His second thought was to make Chester hurry up. Before he could message Chester though, Chester messaged him.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

IL: Right. So. We are running out of time.

IL : Here's the abridged version.

IL: Go to your apartment and find the Cruxtruder

IL: (the thing in the living room with the crank)

IL: Turn the crank (or somehow lift the lid) and two items will be dispensed.

IL: the first is a blue orb that follows you. You will need to throw something in there. It dosent especially matter what.

IL: Second. A blue crystal rod will be released. captchalogue it.

IL: Then, Go to the Punch-DesignX (the thing in the other apartment's living room).

IL: Take the crystal totem's captchalogue card. And put it in the slot.

IL: Once you have a punched card. Take the card and the totem to the totem lathe(the thing that looks like a lathe).

IC: Ihave questions.

IL: Shush. We don't have time. Re-read anything I said for clarification.

IL: Secure the totem inside the lathe. Put the card in the available slot. And activate the Lathe.

IL: Then. Once you have a carved totem. Go to the Alchemeter. (the other thing in the old people's apartment) And place it on the provided pedestal. This will create a crystal item on the center pedestal.

IL: Then. You will need to figure out how to activate it.

IL: Once activated. You will enter the medium.

IL: Good luck.

IC: Waitno

IL: What?

IC: Howdo Iget backto theapartment?

IL: ...Shit.

IL: Give me a second...

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]-**

Chris watched, as a portion of the carpeted floor just...disappeared, until there was a square hole in the ground. Looking down, he could see his filthy apartment.

Well, he thought... that was _one_ way to do it.

Shrugging, he lowered himself though the hole with cat-like grace, landing with only a soft, muffled 'thump' on the concrete floor. Running to the living room, he approached what must be the Cruxtruder.

It was a big, ungainly contraption, that almost scraped the roof. Now then, Chester said to take the top hatch off. Well, there definitely was a hatch. It almost reminded him of a manhole cover.

The crank on the side suggested that he open the lid by turning it, but Chris had a better idea. Hopping up on the machine, he simply captchalogued the lid.

Surprisingly...it worked. Almost immediately, a gray glow filled the room.

Slowly, a mouse gray orb floated up from the cylindrical hole in the Cruxtruder, and gently went to hover beside him.

Normally, Chris would have been shitting bricks at this point, and, though he was still ready to scamper away at so much as a twitch from the orb, Chester mentioning it, was enough to keep him still. For now.

Remembering his instructions, he hopped back on the Cruxtruder and looked inside. Sure enough, a gray... crystal-thing (totem? Chester had called it) was inside. Chris captchalogued it, and opened up his pesterchum to reread what Chester said to do next.

Apparently, he was now supposed to go back up to the "PunchDesign...thing"...ok then.

As he made to go back to the hole in the ceiling, Chris noticed something that made his blood run cold.

On the Cruxtruder. A timer had begun.

It read 10:00

Was that a timer for the comet?

He certainly hoped not. Still, it gave him a bit more 'spring in his step' as he basically sprinted, in sheer terror, down the hall and rapidly ascended the hole Chester had made, with all the grace of an Olympic mountain climber...(was Olympic mountain climbing even a thing? Chester probably knew,...or maybe not. Sports was Evan's thing.).

In under a minute he stood atop the hole, and, like a particularly persistent homeless man the orb still somehow followed him. Running over to the kitchen, pausing to glare at yet more fancy cutlery, (Seriously, how have these people not been burglarized yet?), Chris entered the old folk's living room, where the Punch...thingy was housed.

Thinking back to Chester's instructions, Chris uncaptchalogued the totem's card, and...spent almost two minutes looking around for where to insert it. Finally, as he had lost all hope, he saw the slot. On top of the machine. In _full view_.

Chris was sure Chester was mentally face-palming right now.

Sliding the card in, he heard various beeps and clicks, the machine began shaking violently, which reminded him of the washers at the laundromat he used. Hmmm...

Now that he thought about it, he did remember some gentlemen in black suits and ties enter the laundromat, and climb inside one of the washers, and not come out... Maybe, he decided, they had a secret club-house in there! Gosh, that would have been cool.

With a 'ding', the machine finished, and ejected the card, which Chris deftly caught. Examining it, he found many small, rectangular holes punched in it. It reminded him of a punch card, that steel mill workers used back in the Great Depression...What? He liked history...the parts with gangsters and smugglers anyway...Which kinda explained why he liked Galaxy Wars. No matter what anyone said, Han Yolo was a great Character.

Captchaloguing the punched card, Chris looked through his laptop, for his next instructions. According to Chester, he had to go back downstairs, and put the crystal and the punched card in the lathe-thing. Simple enough, he reasoned.

Running back to the hole in the floor and feeling quite pressed for time, Chris could only spare the loathsome Fine China a passing glare as he (quietly) thundered past. Dropping through the hole, he rolled before hitting the carpet and came to a smooth stop. He continued running towards the kitchen, sparing the Cruxtruder in the living room a passing glance.

The timer read 06:00

Shit. Not good. This would be cutting it close.

Frantically approaching the lathe construct in his kitchen, nearly slipping on some solidified grease in the process, Chris slammed the totem into position, pushed the card into the appropriate (he hoped) slot, and hammered the only visible button on the control panel.

The sharp blade part of the lathe spun up, and with a deafening buzz tore into the strapped-down totem. Shards of crystal peppered the room, and forced Chris to take cover behind a wall. Plates and cups (if they _had_ any) would have been blasted to smithereens by the sheer force of the shower of shrapnel.

Finally, it stopped, and Chris began to regain his hearing. Entering the room, his shoes crunching on fine crystal powder, he removed the now 'carved' totem, which was now all smooth, and curvy and wavy. Kinda like a vase...or something. Chris didn't really know what a vase was, he just felt it was a fitting word to use.

Remembering the last instructions, he captchalogued the vase...totem, and sprinted towards the hole. As he ran past the living room, he noted, with horror, the time on the display.

02:00

With no time to lose, and all the speed of a cornered rat, Chris vaulted up the hole, and ascended up to the next floor. Running to the kitchen, he gave the china no attention as he sprinted. Entering the room, he slammed the totem onto the Alchemeter? 's pedestal, and frantically slammed the activation button.

The tall pole began to unfurl into a robot arm, which then began scanning the totem. Chris willed it to go faster.

Then, after a few seconds of Chris standing there, heart almost exploding from his chest, the totem disappeared in a flash. On the center of the pedestal, a pile of...gray cloth? Appeared.

Picking it up, confused and anxious, he shuffled it around, trying to figure out what it was and how the hell he would "activate" it. Noticing fancy stitching, (he was a... seamster? Male version of seamstress, anyway) and he knew his fabrics. This thing was some sort of...curtains? Drapes? Something like that?

Glancing at the window, he froze. Comets were falling all around the city. The sky was a hellish red. The overpass would shelter them...for now.

Frantically, he tried to do anything to make the curtains "activate". He ran over, and slung them over the window...nothing happened. He wrapped himself in them...nothing happened.

He had almost given up hope when, his laptop beeped.

Desperately, he opened pesterchum and saw a single sentence.

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** be#a! pe #erin^g **incoporealCriticist [IL]-**

 _($:You have thirty seconds left._

 _# : Try to tear it._

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceAsed pest#$%g **incoporealCriticist [IL]-**

Barely able to think straight, and blinded by pure fear, Chris grabbed at the gray drapes with shaking hands, and tried to rip them. After a few agonizingly slow seconds of failure, inspiration struck him.

He quickly uncaptchalogued his glass cutter, and swung it's sharp edge down, towards the lump of cloth in his lap, as the light outside the window reached a blindingly bright red.

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** be#a! pe #erin^g **incoporealCriticist [IL]-**

! _: 00:00_

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceAsed pest#$%g **incoporealCriticist [IL]-**

The comet hit.


	13. Intermission 1: Upon a Golden Moon

**A/N: Hi guys, im back! Anyway, my update schedule will now be returned to normal (yay). Other than that, there is not much else to say, I own nothing save the OC's, Review and Favourite, and finally, I hope you enjoy. :)**

The warm light of Skaia once more greeted the shimmering golden spires of Prospit. It was yet another perfect day in the golden kingdom. The streets were abuzz with talk. One of the session's nobles had recently entered the medium. The others were likely to soon follow.

To the simple-minded white Carapacians that dwelled on Prospit, this was a momentous and glorious occasion. Rumors had spread that the noble's dream-selves, safely tucked away in majestic towers upon the planet's two moons, had begun to stir, and soon, would wake.

The common folk were, quite indeed, in a happy state of good cheer and celebration.

The White Queen and her guards however, were not quite as jubilant about this state of affairs.

Looking over the reports in her throne room, the fair and radiant queen, resplendent in her power Armour (courtesy of Chester's Prototyping), frowned. Things were growing more and more desperate.

The situation upon the battlefield, the center of Skaia, grew bleak. The Dersite armies had launched a new, devastating assault across the entire planet. Try as he might, her husband, the White King, could barely delay the enemy. Total enemy victory was only a matter of time.

She tapped her foot nervously. Though the Dersite victory was foretold since the beginning of time, she had not anticipated that things would move this quickly. One of the Nobles had not yet even entered the medium yet, and two of the kernel-sprites had not even been prototyped.

Worse still, the two Dream-selves under her protection had only recently begun to show signs of stirring, and were far from awakening.

She needed more time.

But how? She mused, opening yet another report, this one even grimmer than the ones before it.

Elsewhere.

A young lad shifted beneath his covers as Skaia's pale light entered through his window. Feeling the warmth on his face, Chris woke up.

Shaking off his sleepiness, he got up and instinctively went to the apartment's small bathroom... And walked into a wall.

Alarmed and wide awake from the pain, he noticed something odd.

The walls were golden. Huh. That was odd.

Eyes widening in realization, he looked around.

EVERYTHING was gold.

This was most certainly _not_ his house.

Looking around the small room, Chris saw a bed (once again, gold and shiny) some dressers, and a window.

Running over to the window, he thrust his head through it. What he saw blew his mind.

Before him stretched a massive city of golden spires and decorative Gothic architecture...at least he thought it was Gothic. Chester gave him a power point on the subject a while ago. He kinda slept through much of it... but hey, he remembered _something_ out of it.

The more noteworthy part though, was the chain.

A massive golden chain. As wide as some of the nearby skyscrapers. Stretched out into the heavens, where a massive, spiky, golden ball hung.

He looked closer,

No, not a spiky ball...that was a planet!

An entire planet, covered with the golden spires, arches, and towers, that dotted wherever he was, floated overhead.

Oh, and for some reason the...thing he was in was chained to the planet.

Chris was absolutely lost at this point. He was beginning to wonder if he'd accidentally ingested some of his brother's "fun grass" again, when it hit him.

He remembered everything. The game. The comet. Chester.

Since he wasn't dead, he assumed that he had successfully activated his "thing", and this was his planet. Chester wasn't kidding when he said the planets were designed for their players. Chris _loved_ shiny things. He felt like he was in heaven.

...

Oh Crap! He had to get Evan into the game.

Frantically turning around, he scoured the gleaming room for his laptop, for anything, … But nothing was found. He had nothing with him, save the clothes on his back.

Actually, speaking of clothes. He felt really weird. His clothes felt... _clean_. He hadn't felt like that since he was banned from the laundromat, for trying to follow the suited gentlemen into their club-house...

Glancing at his arms in confusion, he nearly screamed. His clothes were _gone_...

In their place, were weird golden... Pajamas? That matched the general aesthetic of the surrounding place. Examining them, he noted with approval that the stitching was very nice, indeed. Still though,

He decided that he was _very_ uncomfortable with some strange alien or something changing him while he slept. Sure, he may have spied on people through their web-cams and stuff. But this. This was decidedly creepy.

With no computer or belongings in sight, Chris decided to open the door. Tugging on the handle for a solid minute, he gave up and wandered over to stare dejectedly out the window.

Looking out over the cityscape, he noticed something moving, way, way down there. Leaning in, he saw strange little humanoid creatures wandering about the streets. They had Chalk white skin, and silly cyan and pink clothing. Chris shuddered at the affront to fashion.

Then, an idea hit him. He noticed the spiky things that jutted out of the side of almost every building, his (prison) tower included, and decided to escape...

Climbing out over the windowsill, as quiet as the wind, lest he alert his (captors?), Chris lowered himself over the edge, and wrapped his legs around one of the golden spikes sticking out of the wall.

He then let go of the window, and beginning to fall, wrapped his arms around the spike in a death-grip.

Pausing for a few moments, he glanced down to see if he was spotted. Fortunately, none of the strange little creatures bothered to look up.

Unwrapping his legs, he hung for a moment, before placing his feet on the horizontal spike below him. Then, he stepped down to the spike below that, moving his hands to the spike he was standing on.

Kinda like climbing a ladder, he chuckled.

He slowly and quietly repeated this process and made his way down. He descended a dozen stories, before there was a sickening "CRACK"

He froze.

Glancing over, he saw the spike he was holding onto, fracture... and detach from the tower.

His feet slipped, and he fell.

Chris shut his eyes, and waited for the ground to meet him.

It never came.

Opening his eyes in confusion, he noticed that he wasn't falling. He was just kinda floating there. Kinda like in those outer space movies Chester talked about.

A million things ran through his mind at once. He began to hyperventilate. Chris was very, very bad at dealing with new and stressful information.

Slowly and deliberately, he tried to calm down and think things through like Chester taught him.

First. He slowly looked around. He was, indeed, floating. After a few minutes, he felt reasonably satisfied that he would not spontaneously fall to his death.

Then, he tried moving his limbs. Slowly and deliberately waving his arms, he assured himself that he was not paralyzed or something. Next, feeling _marginally_ more comfortable in this position, he rolled over onto his back, so he did not have to keep looking straight down.

That too, did not cause him to stop floating.

Deciding to try to get back to the spiky decorations, he tried to push himself back to the tower. This mainly included windmilling his arms, and trying to swim in mid-air.

This failed utterly.

After many more failed attempts, he eventually began to resign himself to floating here forever. At least, he mused, the silly little people down there couldn't see him making a fool of himself.

Glancing back at the tower, he nearly shouted in surprise when he began to move towards it.

Startled, he stopped moving.

Hmmm... he thought, brain working in overtime. How would Chester or Evan approach this situation? Slowly, he tried to reenact the same movements he did before floating forward. At first, he was met with yet more refusal to move.

Eventually, though, he managed to float over to the tower, where he promptly grabbed onto a golden spur, and clutched it for dear life.

He thought about the flying...stuff he was doing earlier.

Chris just couldn't explain how it worked. The only time when it worked, was when he just looked at where he wanted to go, and let it happen. It was like breathing or walking, he figured, you just did it.

Biting down the nagging thoughts of "This is a terribly stupid idea." and "OH GOD OH GOD WE ARE GOING TO DIE!", Chris let go of the spike.

For a moment, he thought he was going to fall. But then, his flightyness kicked in, and he once more floated.

Since that was done, he decided to...experiment with his new-found power.

Starting small, he floated up to the spike above him. Then, to the one below that. He repeated the maneuver several times, occasionally glancing down to see if anything had spotted him, before floating around the entire circumference of the tower, always staying within reach of something grab-able, just in case.

Arriving back where he started, he beamed with pride. He was like, a super hero or something now. He felt great.

He next decided to explore his surroundings somewhat, counting on his stealthiness and new-found flight to keep him undetected.

Like a specter, he glided (very slowly, he _was_ taking it easy for now) between the towering gilded spires of the...small ball place he was on. Gazing over the streets, he could see large crowds of the small creatures congregating around the bigger tower that housed, what was clearly his jail-cell.

On a whim, Chris tried to open his fetch-modus to try and retrieve his laptop, only to find, with absolute horror, that it was gone. Not just the False-Bottom modus and all the stuff in it, but his _entire basic inventory_ was missing. He didn't even know that one could _lose_ their basic captchalogue system. The only stuff to the contrary, was when he heard two of his adult friends discuss whether you could take someone's inventory by killing them.

Though he didn't remember what they concluded, Chris knew for a fact that something was very wrong.

Gazing back towards the golden planet, to which this ...moon? was chained, Chris decided that, there, lay the answer to his questions. With no better options, Chris floated over to the massive Chain, and began to follow it to it's source.

Deciding to take a bit of a risk, he tried to speed up his flying. To his surprise, it worked. He was significantly accelerated, to the point where he was absolutely cruising down the length of the chain.

He smiled, this was awesome. If he was anyone else, he would have shouted it to the heavens by this point, but, Chris was a sneaky individual. Even if these aliens were blind, (he still couldn't believe they hadn't yet noticed him messing around, above their heads), that still didn't mean he could be careless.

Speaking of carelessness, as Chris was lost in thought about how careful he was, he slammed into the chain.

His first thought, as soon as his ears stopped ringing and the world stopped spinning, was, "OH GOD! EVERYTHING HURTS!", his next thought was, "Holy crap, did I just shout that out loud?"

Eyes wide in alarm, he glanced down. Or was it up now? Things were confusing in space. Anyway, back to the smaller, gold ball, that was probably a moon or something. Huh, it was smaller than he remembered...

It took him almost a minute to process how far away he was from it now. Though it was still quite massive and took up much of his field of vision, it was now so small that he could only distinguish the largest towers, his prison cell...tower, chief among them.

Chris was shocked. Did he really move that fast? He was only moving along the chain for a few minutes, and he was now half-way to the Gold Planet.

Then, something else hit him. He was in space. WITHOUT A SPACE SUIT.

Chris dramatically clutched at his throat for a few heartbeats, before realizing that no, he was not dying from lack of oxygen. Shrugging, he realized that, no, he really didn't care how he wasn't suffocating right now.

He grinned as he visualized how Chester would go completely nuts over this scientific anomaly. Oh yeah, and the flying stuff, that would also throw the nerd for a loop.

Turning around, he finally gave a proper inspection to his surroundings. There, ...below him?...from where he came from, anyway, was the small gold moon, his large prison tower still visible upon it. For some reason, the whole moon was chained to the large, gold planet...Chris still didn't understand why that had to be a thing.

Then, there was the large gold planet itself. He was halfway there, as far as he could tell. At this point, he could make out some sort of ornate palace, as well as even more decorative towers and arches, all, in gold. To be honest, Chris was already planning on taking a "sample" of this building material, and assaying it to check if it was real gold. It went without saying, that, if this was, all solid gold, Chris would somehow find a way to steal the entire planet.

He loved gold.

Lastly, unnoticed by him earlier, he saw a second small gold moon, this one also chained to the planet, and, if he could see clearly, yet another...Prison tower? Hmmm... He made a mental note to (be ignored later) check the tower at some point later.

As of now though, he still needed to investigate the Planet.

Resuming his breakneck pace, he flew down the length of the chain. This time, making sure to keep a healthy distance between him and it. He certainly didn't want a repeat of...like, two minutes ago.

Still, the only way to improve this experience, he thought, was to add some air to blow in his face. Sadly, space didn't have air, and, while he somehow didn't need to breathe, Chris missed the feeling of the wind in his face.

Nonetheless, he still had an exceptionally fun time cruising down the chain. His fast speed, soon carried him swiftly and silently to the mooring point on the planet.

Chris's first priority, was to test the buildings for gold.

Thus, staying high up, to avoid the inquisitive gazes of the locals, he darted over to the closest skyscraper/tower, and broke off the very tip of one of it's decorative spikes.

Doing the _smart thing_ , Chris immediately placed it in his mouth and bit down on it.

To his absolute surprise, the metal bent easily.

Taking it out, he stared at it, dumbfounded. These buildings. Everything gold on this entire planet. Was made of exceptionally pure gold!

The young kleptomaniac almost had a stroke. He felt like he was in heaven. Thus, he now enacted phase two of the plan. Take everything that wasn't nailed down. Somehow.

First off though, he captchalogued the gold fragment he still held.

Or, that is to say, he held it up in the air, and nothing happened because his fetch-modus was mysteriously gone...

He felt kinda stupid for forgetting that. Fortunately, again, none of the local aliens were around to notice his blunder.

Returning to the task at hand, he realized that he needed somewhere to store all of his soon to be pilfered goodies, since his modus was gone.

Then, he saw it.

Upon a large golden bridge, (one of too many to count), lay a kiosk of some sort.

One that sold large burlap sacks...

'Yes' Chris thought, an evil grin spreading across his face. Surely, the store-keep wouldn't mind letting him 'borrow' some sacks for a...business venture. Though, he didn't exactly know what a business venture was, he'd just heard Chester mention those a lot. Chris figured, whatever it was, it was applicable here.

As silent as a mouse, Chris floated underneath the bridge, and grabbed onto the bridge-leg that lay directly beneath the merchant's stand. No longer using his flying powers, he easily scaled the bridge. All those Gothic decorations made for excellent climbing hand-holds.

Soon, he was hanging just under the railing. Pulling himself up (with more than a little help from his flightyness) Chris peered over the railing.

Seeing that the merchant was absent from his post, and that the coast was clear of bystanders (for the time being), Chris vaulted onto the railing, and silently, leapt behind the stand.

His hiding place behind the booth made him undetectable from the front, and the booth's position near the edge of the bridge, made being spotted from the sides very unlikely. Perfect, he smiled.

Leaning in, he snatched several armfuls of sacks, and carefully slunk back to his hiding spot. Backing up towards the railing, he felt relieved. Everything went perfectly.

Then, he bumped into something...or rather, some _one_.

Very slowly, still crouched, heart sinking, he turned around. Behind him, stood one of the diminutive little white creatures. This close, Chris could see that they didn't really have skin at all. It was more like a hardened exoskeleton, or something, Chris didn't care. Chester would probably know, though. It was about four feet tall, and was...kinda adorable, to be honest.

Oh yeah, it was also armored in golden (as if Chris expected anything else at this point) plate mail, and was menacingly brandishing a spear at Chris.

Besides being an alien, Chris's crouched, sneaky posture and armful of stolen merchandise probably didn't endear him to the guard, Chris noted.

The look on the guard's face though, didn't quite match with anger. It was a mix of confusion, caution, recognition? And...Awe?

Thinking quickly, and acting to resist the inevitable arrest and return to his cell, Chris grabbed a sack, and thrust it over the smaller creature. The element of surprise was total. The little guy barely even offered resistance.

Picking up the squirming bag, He tied it, and slung it over his back. The noise of the scuffle had attracted various civilians to the area to stare at them, and along with them, Chris knew that Guard reinforcements would inevitably be on their way.

They thought they had him cornered. Against the edge of a bridge, nowhere to run. They probably thought he would surrender, or go down easily. But Chris, had a different plan.

He, had something...else up his sleeve.

Taking all his empty bags under one arm, and the kicking and squirming one under the other, Chris backed to the edge of the bridge, and jumped.

After falling a few hundred feet, his flying powers caught him. Now, he was in a pickle though. The aliens were onto him, was stealth even an option at this point?

No. He decided. He would make an appearance to the crowds, like that Robin Houdini thief king guy, then go off on a crime spree across the whole planet...and hit up the palace he saw from orbit for some answers...or something.

His attentions slipped back to the present, however, when the kicking bundle in his right arm nearly wiggled out and fell. Getting a tighter grip, Chris wondered what to do with this guy. At first, he contemplated just letting him go, but then, a better idea crossed his mind. The guy had golden armor, and Chris was here to pilfer gold, after all.

Perhaps he would just hang on to him, for a while, anyway.

Now then, he looked back at the spires eagerly, he had a planet to plunder.

Within the White Queen's chambers, some time later.

The queen felt a headache coming on as she read the latest report. One of the nobles' dream-selves had awoken... and had run-off somewhere, assaulted and kidnapped several guards, and was now flying around vandalizing public property.

Eye-witnesses had seen him using improvised tools to carve chunks out of buildings, and placing them into burlap sacks.

As if the current situation wasn't bad enough as it was.

She supposed that an arrest order could be issued for him, but since her guards couldn't fly, her battleships were too massive to go in atmosphere, and the shuttles were way to slow to catch him, there was little she could actually do about this at the moment. Besides, she was busy enough with trying to keep Dersite assassins away from the two sleeping nobles.

She sighed in frustration, bringing a hand to massage her head. This was one of _those_ days, when she wished she could have passed the mantle of "queen" onto quite literally _anyone_ else. Let them deal with this shit for a change. Then, a messenger bearing the latest word from the battlefield was ushered in,

Judging by his face, things were about to get even worse for her.

Back to the rampaging kleptomaniac,

Chris was happily whistling as he worked, using some improvised sharp pieces of masonry, to whittle golden flakes off the side of a building.

After a while of experimentation on how to best harvest gold, he found an ideal method. Currently, he was using a scraper tool to shave gold dust off a building, and collecting it in a sack.

This was more efficient that his earlier attempts, which mainly just involved prying chunks of metal out of buildings. Those chunks, even in bags, were awkward to carry, and way too heavy for the quantity of gold they offered.

Though the gold dust was still heavy, it was significantly less cumbersome, and easier to carry. Judging the sack to now be full, Chris slung it over his shoulder, and proceeded to accelerate towards a junction where a nearby bridge connected with a large structure.

Arriving at his destination, with the utmost stealth, careful not to be spotted by the small, Grey...hovering vehicles that were roving around the area, searching for him, Chris quietly slipped in-between the bridge-leg and the wall it connected to.

He entered a very small alcove, that he doubted the aliens were even aware of. This, along with various other places around the city, were his "treasure caches". He knew that he wasn't strong enough to carry all his bags around at once, (boy, did he miss the fetch-modus, you never knew what you had till it was gone, indeed.). Thus, he began the practice of hoarding his bags of loot in various out-of-the-way locations, that he committed to memory, in order to hopefully, one day return and collect the treasures.

He had also found a way to deal with the guards he had abducted. After much deliberation, Chris had simply settled for taking their (shiny) armor, and letting them go.

Turning to the entrance, he swiftly ducked back as yet another of the Blocky, Grey hover transports flew past.

Waiting a full sixty seconds, and satisfied that it was gone, he slowly emerged his head from cover, and thoroughly scanned his surroundings. Safe, he exited his cover, and quickly darted straight up, until he was high enough to be considered to be "in atmosphere".

From his vantage point, Chris overlooked the planet, and schemed. That was his last bag that he had just deposited. That brought the total to...roughly thirty full sacks of gold.

Good enough. _For now_.

He supposed that stealing more bags _was_ an option, but he was swiftly growing bored of this challenge-less looting. The locals couldn't even do a proper man-hunt.

Sighing, he looked back to the palace. Perhaps there, he thought, would be the leaders of this place. Maybe they would have some answers about how he got here. Hopefully, like, in an easily grabbable letter, document, file, or something. In plain sight. That would be nice.

 _Or_ , he amended, perhaps they had treasures other than gold here. Maybe in a vault or something beneath the palace... yes... he did fancy a treasure hunt today.

One way or another, he was decided. The palace it was, then!

Flying down towards the planet, Chris realized that the stupid gold pajamas he was wearing actually were somewhat helpful, in terms of offering him exceptional camouflage, when looked at with the planet's golden structures as a backdrop.

Once he was a few miles away from the main entrance, which was a massive, open gate that connected to, yet another wide, walkway bridge.

The palace itself was, less than impressive. It was pretty, yes, but it housed few walls or guard towers. This would be even easier than he anticipated.

Still though, he certainly couldn't waltz in through the front gate.

...or could he?

Seeing a handful of golden trash-cans scattered along the walkway, a devious idea began to form...

Soon, he was inside a trash-can, and slowly shuffling along to the palace, his movements screened by a massive crowd of citizens.

The fact that everything was gold here, actually worked against the guards, due to the fact that a golden garbage bin, slowly moving and staying out-of-sight, against a golden background, with golden objects scattered through the fore-ground, made detecting movement, nigh impossible.

The palace guards seemed bored as hell when he approached. They weren't even taking the documents of the aliens entering the palace. The four spear carrying guards just kinda stood there, leaning on their weapons, and tiredly waving entrants through.

Chris stopped for a few moments, then, when a large group went in, he just followed them. Making sure to keep the group between him and the guards, and moving slowly, Chris entered the palace without incident or notice.

Upon entry, he slowly shuffled around a few corridors, before, satisfied that he was alone, shed the disguise, and went to work.

Various paintings and statues dotted the corridors, along with fancy rugs, and, had he a fetch-modus to take them with, Chris would have had a field day. But, as things stood, he had no false-bottom modus, and no bags to carry things. Regrettably, he would need to take only the fanciest and most valuable thing around.

He sighed, dejected, T'was just his luck to appear in a realm of pure treasure, just lying there, waiting for him...and he had nothing to cart it away with.

With no knowledge of the layout, Chris just stealthily wandered around corridors and rooms, occasionally hiding in a patch of shadow to let patrolling guards go past. Every so often, he would find some ornate trinket that he would examine, but ultimately leave in it's place, as he just knew, that there was something more important here.

Just as he was considering to cut his losses, double back and snatch a vase he saw on the way here, Chris passed an ornate set of double doors.

Rather than open the doors and peek in, which was liable to give him away, Chris instead looked around for an...alternate option. Gazing around, he quickly found what he was looking for. In the ceiling, lay the opening of an air vent. Perfect.

Floating up to it, Chris was pleasantly surprised to see that some idiot had made the vent big enough for him to crawl through. Now that he thought about it, it's size was even stranger once he realized that the white aliens were significantly smaller than humans. What on earth would make the architect think vents this big were a good idea?

Still, not one to look a gift horse...er, vent in the mouth, Chris happily removed the grate, and silently climbed in, dropping on his hands and knees once inside. Used to it, or not, flying still made him uncomfortable.

Crawling forwards a bit, he found what he was looking for. Ahead of him lay another grate. This one likely leading to beyond those doors.

Gently lifting it, he lowered a fraction of his head through.

What he saw, left only one word in his mind.

JACKPOT

His head had emerged in the ceiling of an exceptionally ornate room, that was dominated by a gorgeous throne in the center of it. There were twelve visible guards, these ones clad in shining gold plate, ornate full face helmets, and wielding swords.

Upon the throne, was what truly had his attention. There, sat a larger and more regal alien. This one, he guessed, was likely taller than him. It was probably a leader of some kind, Chris realized. And... was that SPESS RANGER chest and shoulder Armour it was wearing?

Chris wasn't a _big_ WarSlammer fan, but he _was_ like, eighty percent sure that that was, in fact, spess ranger armor.

Regardless, something else about the alien ruler drew his attention. Rather, something on it's head.

The alien (monarch?) wore a magnificent crown upon it's head.

Chris had immediately realized that he had finally found the treasure he was seeking within the palace. As he silently began to enter the room and stealthily float along the ceiling, he was already hatching plans to "acquire" the crown.

Meanwhile,

The White Queen really needed a stiff drink right about now. Sadly, due to Prospit's taboos on darn near anything 'fun', she was forbidden from it. In this, she envied her black counterpart on Derse.

Though she, and many others had much to say about the dark kingdom, little of it pleasant, she did admit they knew how to "live a little" over there.

Disgruntled, she returned her thoughts to the problem of security for the two nobles. The one that still remained in his tower was easy, for the most part. All she could really do is post additional guards around his tower. Just to be safe, she also re-positioned a small destroyer to park itself in orbit around the moon.

The second noble, the one that had fled his tower and commenced vandalizing property...for some reason, would be harder to deal with.

Although, since she and her agents had absolutely no idea where he was, she could hope that that meant that the Dersite Archagents that would inevitably sent to kill him couldn't find him ether.

Still, even though she knew that hoping for stuff like that was bound to lead to disappointment, there was little she could do. The whole planet was being combed, and there was still no sign of the noble. Assuming he was _even on_ the planet still.

She just hoped, that wherever he was, he was staying safe.

As she was about to order an extension of the search to both moons, she felt a sharp tug on her head.

Slowly turning, she found herself staring straight at the missing noble. He had his hand on her crown, and was trying to take it from her. Once she saw him though, he just froze.

For several heartbeats, everyone just sort-of stared at each other awkwardly, as her brain tried and failed to process just what the hell she was looking at.

Then, he tugged again, and the crown came free. The momentum though, sent him off the throne, and sprawling onto the floor, where he was mobbed by guards.

Normally, she would have called them off, as sicking guards onto people was a barbaric thing that only Dersites did. However, her head hurt like hell when he yanked the crown off her, and she wasn't keen to let him run off again, so she motioned for her guards to detain him.

To be honest, she had no clue what to do with him. Though, as the queen, she had standards to maintain. Thus, she maintained an "in control" face, while inwardly trying to figure out where to put him, so he couldn't run off and get assassinated.

Her mind proved uncooperative, as any place she thought of, she knew was known to the Derse spies, and would offer no sanctuary for him.

As she continued trying to find a way out of this impossible situation, it hit her. She knew exactly where to send him. Somewhere even the dreaded Archagents of Derse would never dream of looking...

Motioning for her captain to approach, she whispered a few curt commands, and he nodded.

Barking orders at his subordinates, he approached the noble, and placed shackles upon him. Then, several guards escorted him out of the throne room, and towards the space dock.

She hoped that she didn't just make a colossal mistake...

Just outside the throne room,

Chris was being led in handcuffs, by some of the short armored guys, after his cunning scheme had failed. Who could have guessed that the crown was stuck to the alien (female's?) head tighter than his brother to one of his "special comic books".

His thoughts were interrupted when one of the short guys poked him with the hilt of his sword to make Chris move faster.

Grumbling, he moved onwards, following the short guy with fancy armor in the lead.

He contemplated making a run for it, but he didn't fancy his chances inside a building against his weapon carrying captors. Also, he was mildly curious to see where he was being taken.

Soon, to his surprise, they emerged outside, rather than in a dungeon of some sort. Looking around, Chris saw that they were on a...landing pad, of some kind. In the center of the pad, a large gray box transport sat.

The party approached it. Once they got close, a hatch on the side opened, and a small alien hopped out.

It looked identical to the other civilian ones he had seen, except this one had a coal black carapace, as opposed to everything else on this planet, that had a white carapace. It also had red and purple clothing, while the ones he was used to had light blue, and gold clothing.

Chris was confused by this alien. Was it some sort of subspecies? Or, a mutant or something?

Anyway, while he was staring at it in confusion, the armored leader of their party approached the strange alien, and handed it a piece of paper.

They both chattered at each other, in that strange language of theirs, while the black one inspected the paper, with what appeared to be a bored? expression.

Seemingly satisfied, the black alien rolled up the paper, and motioned to the group. At an order from their gold armored chief, the ones escorting Chris pushed him over to the ship, and led him aboard.

Their commander boarded, and approached Chris. Reaching to his belt, he drew out a set of keys, and removed Chris's handcuffs, took them, and left the ship, leaving Chris alone inside the small vessel.

Then, the door closed. Artificial lighting kicked on, and Chris heard the noise of what was likely engines starting up.

With the door closed, and no other way to leave the boxy craft, Chris sat down on a metal bench, and figured he might as well enjoy the ride.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey guys! I have a new Chapter for you! Yay! Anywho, 45,000 words, dang, I was not anticipating that this arc would take that long. Sorry for those of you that want to see the beta kids and trolls soon. Im working on it, but it'll take quite a while until then.**

 **As always, I own nothing, save the OC's. Review please, it really gives me more energy to keep writing. (Tatopotato, thanks for all your support.)**

 **Anyway, lets get to it, I hope you enjoy.**

The forest burned with a hellish red glare.

A light rain of comets had begun over the Korean Peninsula in the late hours of the day. Evan watched with barely contained nervousness from the Winnebago as the flames roared higher and higher. Against the setting sun, the sky took on a crimson hue whilst small meteors rained all around.

Had it been up to him, Evan would have moved elsewhere a long time ago. However, his dad was still out there, somewhere.

While they had made contingencies for numerous events, ranging from an alien invasion, to World War Three, Evan and his dad had...neglected to devise a plan for giant space rocks falling from the sky. Evan was fairly sure that his dad would try to make his way back to the campsite, (if he could), but gazing out at the fire, Evan was growing more and more concerned that their campsite was becoming unreachable and surrounded by flames.

Tapping his fingers against the windowsill and gazing out the window in anticipation, Evan decided that he would wait five more minutes, and then make a break for it, and head to an abandoned North Korean military compound, which his dad had identified as a backup rendezvous point, if their current campsite was compromised.

Trying to take his mind off of things, while still keeping an eye on the fires, which were still quite far into the forest at the moment, Evan sat down on pesterchum, and began to write to Chester, to check on Chris's progress with the whole "get Evan into the game" thing.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Chester?

IL: Yes?

EE: What's going on out there?

EE: Where the hell is Chris, there are fires and space rocks everywhere!

IL: Chris is on his planet. In the medium. He hasn't woken up yet.

IL: I'm keeping an eye on him.

EE: Really? HE'S SLEEPING AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!

IL: Well, I don't know. I was passed out upon my entry into the medium.

EE: Can you wake him up?

IL: I don't Know. Give me a second to ask Boreall.

EE: Well?

IL: He seems to think that it's dangerous to wake someone up once they enter the medium.

EE: More dangerous than falling space rocks?

IL: Look man. I don't know.

IL: Are you in danger right now?

EE: Not at the moment, but the fires are getting close.

IL: Did your dad get back?

EE: Not yet, but I can't afford to wait for him to get back.

EE: I'm going to wait a bit longer, then, I'll evacuate to a backup location.

IL: That's good, at least.

IL: I'm sure that he'll be fine.

EE: I damn well hope so.

EE: Still, he's a tough old bastard, it'll take more than some wussy-arse space rocks to put him down.

IL: Still. I don't think Chris will be too much longer. Good Luck.

EE: Aye. I'm heading out now. See you on the other side.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Gazing warily at a wall mounted clock within the Winnebago, Evan anxiously watched the seconds tick down. Once several minutes had passed, he steeled his resolve, jumped into the soft driver's seat, and slid the belt around him (What? Safety first.). Evan methodically pawed under the dashboard for the spare key. Finding it, he slid it in the ignition, turned, and the Winnebago left the campsite in a lurch of black exhaust.

Around him, the flames grew ever nearer.

Within the medium...

Chris snapped awake with a start. He'd just had the most messed up dream. Even more messed up than when he tried his brother's "fun sticks".

It was just...bizarre. There were little white aliens, and a gold planet, and all sorts of crazy stuff.

Glancing around as he shakily stood up, Chris noticed that he was still in his neighbor's living room. Groaning, he began to fuzzily remember the events leading up to his bout of unconsciousness. Since he was still alive, he assumed that the mystery user's advice paid off. He made a mental note to thank the guy (gal?) later.

Looking around the room, he observed that there was a veritable cloud of dust in the air, and most of the furniture and fancy dishes now lay broken on the floor. Gazing at the window, he dimly noted that there was very little light coming in, suggesting that it was dark outside. Which was strange, since, back home, it was morning.

He guessed that, that too, meant that he was in the medium now. Chester mentioned that he would have his own planet... or something.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris noticed that his laptop was flashing.

Opening pesterchum, he noticed that both Evan and Chester were messaging the hell out of him. Apparently, Evan was running out of time, and Chris needed to pull him into the medium. Fast.

Chris was about to hop to it, and begin trying to connect with Evan via sburb, but then a thought crossed his mind. His new friend told him to seek out his denizen first. In fact, he (she?) was quite adamant about it being the first thing Chris did upon arrival in the medium.

But, he couldn't just leave Evan, he argued. As if by mind reading, at that exact moment, a message appeared in his pesterchum window.

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** be#a! pe #erin^g **incoporealCriticist [IL]-**

 _#: There has been a change of plans._

 _^ &: Your companions have taken longer than I anticipated._

IC: Evan'sstill indanger! Ineed tohelp him

 _*$: Indeed. You must first attend to your companion._

 _^%: Visiting your Denizen will take second priority then._

IC: Heyumm... Iwantedto say. Thanksfor tellingme howto getinto themedium.

IC: Iwouldnt havemade itwithout you.

 _#^: Do not fret. We are Friends, Right? And Friends help each other._

IC: Yeahfriends.

 _)$: Now do not delay. Your companion needs you._

IC:OKay! Igotthis!

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceAsed pest#$%g **incoporealCriticist [IL]-**

Set upon his course of action, Chris messaged Evan.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: Evan?

IC: Evan?

IC: Evan?

IC: Imon now.

IC: Justwaiting foryou toconectwith meon sburb

EE: Im driving, can't talk.

IC: Areyou ok?

EE: I've been better.

EE: Look, we'll talk when I get to my destination.

IC: Okayim right herefor whenyou getthere

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Knowing Evan was safe, for now anyways, and that there was nothing he could do at the moment, Chris wandered over to the window, eager, to have a glance at "his" planet. Opening the curtains, he was treated to... a whole lot of nothing.

He'd assumed it would be dark outside, but this was pretty much too dim to see through. The interior light, reflecting off the window pane made seeing through the window impossible. Chris decided that he would head back to his apartment, and try to access the balcony there for a better view.

Walking back to the hole in the floor, he dropped into his apartment. Since his home was _normally_ crappy and dirty, the damage that was self-evident in his neighbor's apartment, was almost imperceptible here.

Navigating through the built-up crud and muck with practiced ease, Chris creaked open the balcony door and stepped outside.

The first thing about this new world to hit him (literally) was the smoke. And, oh boy, did it hit him. Chris felt like he had walked into a wall, from the sheer force of the pitch-black smoke cloud that rushed into the apartment.

Coughing and wheezing, he pressed onwards, undeterred. Resting his arms on the railing, he gazed about. The apartment seemed to have been teleported onto a hill of some kind, he noted. What was truly eye-catching though, was the surrounding landscape.

All around him, hard to see in the smoke, lay a massive city, dimly lit by small balls of light in the darkness. From small holes that appeared from time to time in the smoke, Chris could see three to four story tall Victorian buildings, tightly hemmed together.

This bloody smoke was really doing a number on his eyes, he complained, rubbing at his eyes. Although, Chris guessed, it wasn't really smoke. Smoke was the product of a fire. And since no fire was to be found here, he asserted that it must instead, be smog. Chester taught him that. During "fire safety week", or something. Chris still remembered Evan's response to Chester's demands for him to listen to a lecture, "Look, Chester. I know all I need to about fires. I _start_ them, after all,"

Looking back to the city, which went as far as the horizon, in any direction he looked in. Chris felt something pass through his mind,

 _ **'Land of Smog and Gaslight'**_

Huh. Chris could have sworn he hadn't heard that before. So, why did he just remember it now? He wondered. Was that maybe what this place was called? Hmmm...

His pondering was cut short when his pesterchum beeped,

Chris practically leapt for joy as he ran over to his laptop, which he left on the Cruxtruder in the living room.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Chris?

IC: yeeeeeeeeeeessss?

EE: Don't talk like that

IC: Ohsorry :(

EE: Whatever, open up sburb, connect to me, and let's do this.

IC: Okay! Yay!

Minimizing the chat window, Chris navigated to sburb, which he'd had the foresight to leave running, and opened it. Going to "servers", he found EnragedExtremist, and pressed "connect". The annoying little circular logo appeared again. After a minute, the game loaded, and Chris could make out... a Factory? Of some-sort.

It looked like an oil refinery...that Chris once cased for burglary. There were chain-link fences surrounding the area, plenty of pipes and catwalks, two large concrete cylindrical towers and a...very familiar Winnebago.

Sounds of gunfire, punctuated by bright flashes, echoed throughout the area. Zooming in, Chris saw Evan, crouched behind a concrete block, alternating between typing on his laptop, and leaning out to fire at some unseen enemy in the darkness.

Panning the camera around, Chris saw something that brought back a sinking feeling of dread, that he had experienced not too long ago...

Crimson flames were enveloping the forest around the compound. The sky was the same shade of hellish red that it was back in Seattle, small rocks were already beginning to fall from the sky. Then, Evan sent another message.

EE: CHRIS, I NEED YOU TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME, OK?

IC: okwhat doyou need?

IC: alsodon't yellatme.

EE: Sorry, as you can see, I am not having a very good day.

IC: okaywhat?

EE: Do you see the concrete cooling tower on the left. My left.

IC: err...ithink so...

EE: I need you to delete part of it's bottom.

EE: So it falls on the North Koreans.

EE: Got it?

IC: yes!ok! Iwill notlet you down! :)

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Chris was horrified. He had no idea how to do any of that. Watching Evan duck back down, as the fire on his small piece of cover intensified, Chris prayed for the best and decided to take things slow.

Looking at the user-interface, he saw a symbol that looked like a mouse cursor. Surely, that, was the "delete tool". Selecting it, he went to work...

Inside a burning refinery...

Evan cursed as he ducked back down. He had hoped to arrive at an _abandoned_ North Korean complex. He had hoped to use it's _abandoned_ deep underground bunkers to enter the medium in relative safety. He had hoped to meet up with his dad at their _abandoned_ rendezvous site.

Unfortunately, it seemed that some enemy soldiers, also wanted to use the bunkers. Despite the fact that fighting each other in an apocalypse scenario was completely stupid, the North Korean soldiers had shot at the Winnebago on sight. Instead of, you know, putting aside their differences to try and survive Armageddon.

Although, to be fair, Evan would never have allowed communists to exist in his presence, and would have shot on sight out of principle, if they didn't beat him to it.

So now, here he was, hiding behind a piece of masonry, shooting the hell out of any idiots that decided charging him head on was a smart thing to do.

Especially after six of them had already died, doing the exact same thing. Still, they at least, finally, seemed to figure out that _maybe_ , charging a fortified location head on wasn't a good idea.

So now they used their numbers against him, by slowly moving to encircle him, while keeping him pinned in place, with their sheer volume of fire.

He supposed that using the Winnebago's turret could fix this mess, but he'd left the camper behind, to try and shift an obstruction in the path. Earlier, He'd contemplated making a run for it, but with the way he was currently pinned down, one of the bullets being launched at him was bound to get lucky and hit him eventually. So that plan was out.

Then, a completely genius idea hit him. Chris was still waiting to hook up via sburb. Someone that could move, delete or drop objects on people, would be an excellent ally in this.

Now, Evan was just peeking over the edge oh the barrier, waiting for Chris to do his thing. As he crouched there, it suddenly dawned on him that perhaps, depending on Chis to execute a highly complex plan, in a life-or-death situation, was not the best of ideas.

Chris was the kind of person that once nearly burned down his entire apartment building, while trying to make toast. Apparently, trying to reach inside an active toaster with a flammable paper towel, was not a wise idea. Also, panicking and throwing the flaming paper towel in the _paper_ recycling bin, was an even worse idea. Huh. Who would have thought?

Still, Evan reasoned, Chris knew what he was doing, Chester explained to him how sburb worked, after all. Everything should be fine.

Gazing intently at the tower he'd marked for demolition, looking for any sign of it's foundation being deleted, so it could collapse upon his foes, Evan was left unaware of what was happening to the other tower. The first thing he saw, was a shadow falling across the field. Then, mortar, re-bar and concrete fragments began to rain upon the field.

Looking up, Evan's heart nearly stopped when he saw the _Right side_ cooling tower, ripped off it's foundations, and floating across the battlefield, trailing falling debris in it's wake.

Evan could only process a few words as he stared at it, baffled. What. The. Hell. He hadn't told Chris to do any of that. In fact, that wasn't even the tower he'd pointed out. What on earth was that god-damn kleptomaniac thinking?

The fire from the North Korean soldiers stopped, it seemed that they too, were at wit's end with the physics defying magic tower that was gently floating over their heads.

Then, it fell.

Evan was slammed on his back as the shock-wave hit him. Following closely after, a dust cloud enveloped the refinery.

Coughing, Evan shakily stood up. The entire compound was now deathly silent, save for the crackling flames in the distance.

Dusting off his clothes, he captchalogued his rifle, and went over to the crash site. Everything was still. Since no bullets came whizzing out of the dust at him, Evan surmised that all the commies' were dead, or had retreated from the "magic flying towers". Well Chris, he thought, that was _one_ way to do it.

Satisfied, he messaged Chris, to try and get the obstructions in front of the Winnebago cleared.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Chris. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?

IC: yeh,sorryabout that

IC: Ihaveno idea howto workthis

EE: YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME, YOU BLOODY IMBECILLE

IC: Sorry. Itworked though. Right?

EE: I guess it did, yeah.

EE: Look, now, I need you to clear all the wreckage and crap in-front of the camper

EE: Do you know how to do that?

IC: errmmm...ithinkso. I nowknow wherethe delete keyis.

EE: Good, but, if you delete the Winnebago. I. Will. End. You.

IC: *gulp*

IC: okgot it

IC: illbe supercareful

IC: likesuper super careful.

IC: no needfor violence.

EE: Just do it, the fire's getting closer.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Evan walked back to the Winnebago, almost as blind as a bat, arms outstretched, trying not to fall and skewer himself on some piece of exposed re-bar or something. Soon, he arrived at the camper. He first noticed it when he walked right into it. Holding his head in pain, he cursed the damnable smoke and dust cloud that had enveloped the refinery.

Feeling his way along the side of the vehicle, he soon hoped into the driver's seat, and immediately took a lungful of (relatively) clean air.

Reaching into his backpack and uncaptchaloging the key, Evan slid it into the ignition, gave it a quarter turn, and slowly puttered the camper forward. Screeching noises were emitted from the steel side plating, which scraped against various chunks of concrete and rock that were dropped earlier by the floating tower.

He could barely see anything through the smoke, the Winnebago's headlights barely doing anything to pierce the dusty blackness. Going off memory, more than sight, Evan had reached the point which he previously marked as impassible. Now, it was...passable. Where previously a fallen large, steel, girder had blocked the road, there was now a neat, rectangular path cut through it.

Being acquainted with sburb, Evan recognized it as the work of the "delete tool". Hmm, he mused, so it appeared that Chris _was_ capable of following simple instructions.

Pulling out his laptop, he quickly typed out a "good job", and went back to driving, being especially careful to not hit anything in the low visibility.

He and his dad had scouted the area multiple times in the past, and at one point, the site was even one of their alternating campsites, that they used while they waged their guerrilla campaign against the 'commies'. Their stays here were put to an end, when the steel pylon fell from corrosion, and blocked the path.

Still, with his knowledge of the area, Evan knew that, much like most of the sites in the area, this place was not just a fuel refinery, but was, at one point, a hard-site for the North Korean army. Multiple large underground munitions bunkers were in the complex. These bunkers were absolutely massive.

The Winnebago, for example, could easily fit inside the ammunition bunkers, which were designed to accommodate the positively giant, military-grade fork-lifts that were used to unload ammo on site.

The bunkers also had ten inch thick, steel doors, which Evan was very eager to place between him and the raining comets. The thick, reinforced concrete that comprised the rest of the bunker would also be welcome.

The Winnebago exited the tangle of rubble and pipes that _was_ the refinery, and slowly advanced onto a long, straight stretch of road. Though he couldn't see them, Evan knew that...about a few hundred feet away, were a series of narrow, rectangular, grassy hills. These were the grassy, dirt covers for the munitions bunkers.

Evan moved the camper forward, until the first one could be seen through the dim haze. The faded and cracked paint marked it as "Bunker 1-A", in Korean, of course, Evan had learned the language of his enemy at a _very_ young age.

Parking the Winnebago, Evan hopped out, and approached the closed heavy steel doors. The crackling of the fire was...quieter here. Besides the red sky, there was nothing here to suggest that hellish meteors were falling from the sky.

An almost... tomb-like silence reigned over this place. Evan remembered being unnerved by this place every time he visited with his dad. But in those times, he had his dad with him. By his side, Evan feared nothing. Once, he saw his dad kill a bear with nothing but a can opener. (What? They were picnicking by a stream and it surprised them.) Another time, his dad rushed a tank with a land-mine in hand, and took it out. Without his dad, this place felt a lot emptier... Briefly, he wondered where his father was now, and if they'd see each other again. Catching himself feeling sentimental, Evan ended that train of thought, and berated himself mentally. Emotion was a weakness. If his dad lived, then he would meet Evan here. If not, then Evan would get through this and carry the torch, purging communism, on Earth or in the medium, wherever it sprung up, like his dad had raised him to.

Returning to the matter at hand, he surveyed the area. The steel door was closed. Good. Just like they'd left it, some years ago. There was a large wheel mechanism on the outside, that was used to open the titanic doors, when the base was still in operation.

However, it had long since rusted into disrepair, so Evan's dad had, long ago, jury rigged a mechanism to get around it. Approaching a steel barrel that lay on it's side near the entrance, Evan reached inside and captchalogued a modified steel rod. It was like a very long crowbar, with a gear welded to the top.

This, was what his dad used to open and close the Blast-Door. Going back to the crank, Evan uncaptchalogued his Gerber knife, and used it to pry open a metal hatch beneath the crank. Inside, was a bunch of hydraulically powered gears. This would normally open the door, after being given a head-start by the wall crank.

The hydraulics had broken long ago as well, so now the door could only be opened by manually turning the gears with the special tool. However, it was a backbreaking and very time consuming task, that even for his dad, took almost an hour to do. At the moment, with meteors of death streaking across the sky, he just did not have that kind of time to waste.

Still, Evan had a plan to get around that. He walked over to the exposed gears, and stuck the lever-device into the mechanism.

Then, he reached into his backpack modus and uncaptchalogued his laptop.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Chris.

IC: yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssss?

EE: You see the lever I put into the gear mechanism?

IC: No.

IC: wait.

IC: maybe. CanI changemy answer?

EE: I need you to use the object manipulation tool, to pull the lever back and forth.

EE: Each subsequent motion will open the door by a small amount.

IC: ohok. Igetit, you wantme todo it becausewith SburbI candoit superfast, and withoutphysical exertion

EE: Exactly. Also, hurry up on it, meteors are comin' and we're burning daylight.

IC: … Butit's nighttime though?

EE: ...Shut up.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Evan took a step back, and watched as the lever began to rapidly move back and forth, with a speed that no human could ever match. With the lever, the rusty gears made a long, drawn-out groan, and began to creak into motion.

The colossal steel door gave out a metal shriek, and began to slowly open, likely, for the first time since his dad closed it, all those years ago.

Even with Chris's help, it was slow going. After five minutes, the door was just open enough for Evan to stick his arm through. Meanwhile, the rain of meteors had increased from a few pebbles hitting the ground every so often, to dense, softball sized, flaming chunks of rock, that caused craters in the pavement wherever they landed.

Around the area, the flames that had once been conspicuously absent, had come so close that the fog and smoke was glowing red.

Looking back at the barely expanding gap in the door, Evan had a sinking feeling that he might not be able to get the Winnebago inside in time. Hell, at the rate it was going, _he_ might not be able to get inside before a meteor hit.

Desperately, he messaged Chris to go faster, but he received no response. Presumably because Chris had all his attention on getting the door open.

Looking back at the Winnebago, he contemplated that he may have to leave it. It tore at his heart to be in such a situation. Evan knew what he was _supposed_ to do, his dad had drilled him with it so much that Evan could practically recite the motto in his sleep, "Cut your losses. Move on. The mission comes first."

It just wast fair, dammit! He'd already lost his father, there was no god-damn way he was going to lose the Winnebago too. He just needed a plan, time to think. There was a way out of this. There had to be.

Then, it hit him, a way to avoid opening the doors. He sent Chris a message.

'Move the doors off their hinges.'

For a second, nothing happened, then, the lever stopped moving. With an agonizing creak, the doors began to strain under the the pressure of what Evan assumed to be the 'move' tool. With a deafening snap, the rusty hinges shattered, and the doors floated inwards.

Wasting no time, Evan sprinted into the Winnebago, leapt into the seat and started it. As it began to inch forward, something hit it. There was a flash of light and the sound of shredded metal. Evan was thrown into the dashboard from the impact.

Shaking lights out of his vision, Evan sat up.

His blood froze.

The entire front of the camper was an unrecognizable mess of mangled steel and flame. A meteor had struck the Winnebago straight in the hood.

At first, he was just so shocked he forgot how to move or think. The mighty Winnebago, nightmare of all communists, the vehicle that once bested a battle tank in combat, was burning. Then, he realized the true depths of how bad this was. The hood had been destroyed. The

ENGINE had been destroyed.

Shakily, he lifted a hand to the key, and turned it. Nothing. Not even a rumble from the engine. Stupefied, he just sat there, turning the key back and forth, as meteors began to rain all around him. How could this happen? He was so close.

Dimly, he saw the various sburb equipment appearing inside the bunker with flashes of light. Glancing over, he saw messages from Chris.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: Evan?

IC: Evan?

IC:Everything'sset upnow

IC: We'regoodto go

IC: Evan?

IC: Ohmygod.

IC: TheWinniebago...

IC: Still,everything'ssetup inside

IC: Evan?

EE: Yeah. I know.

EE: Chester said the Black King is behind the meteors, right?

IC: ihaveno idea, letsjust getyou intothe medium, ok?

EE: I'm going to make that bastard suffer.

IC: oh,gosh okthen

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

The last thing Evan wanted to do was to leave the Winnebago, but there was just no other options. The rain of meteors was increasing in it's intensity, and small thuds could be heard against the camper's roof. Had it not been heavily armored, Evan had no doubt that the Winnebago would be riddled with holes at this point.

Taking the keys as something to remember the valiant machine by, and with a heavy heart, he opened the door, and sprinted towards the open bunker doors. Though his dad said that emotion and sentiment were little more than distractions, and even though Evan wholeheartedly agreed, right now he could barely keep his hands from shaking due to his apocalyptic levels of fury. Evan promised to himself that the Black King would pay for this, even if it was the last thing Evan did.

Tiny rocks bounced off his coat as he ran, leaving small singe marks where they met their marks. One burned through his coat and singed his arm. Evan swiped it off, but otherwise didn't care. He was _long_ past caring about things.

Finally, he reached the bunker, and leapt inside.

The first thing he noticed, was how dark it was, Evan never remembered it being this dark down there before. Shrugging, he followed the interior wall, until he came to a circuit panel. Prying it open with his knife, Evan re-crossed some wires, and suddenly, the lights came on.

Looking around, he noted that bunker was just as they had left it, all those years ago. It was a large, long, rectangular, concrete structure. There were rusted metal plates on the ground, the last things remaining from the ammunition stores that were once housed here. Faded paint lines were on the floor, once used to direct fork-lift operators. The clean and new sburb devices looked incredibly out of place in this dusty, forgotten tomb.

Walking back to the opening, and looking out, he saw the Winnebago's burning carcass, and lowered his head respectfully for it. That machine had almost been as much of a parent to him as his dad was.

Once, as a young child, when his dad left him in the camper for a few hours, Evan had left the Winnebago and wandered off to try and go fishing in the woods. He got lost, wandered for a while, and ran into a pack of wolves. Though he now could easily take a wolf-pack, his five year old self, was in no condition to do so. He would have died then and there if it wasn't for the Winnebago. Frightened by the wolves, the young Evan backed away from the growling predators, when a blinding green flash from behind him scared them away. Petrified, the young Evan slowly turned around.

There, right behind him, was the Winnebago. He immediately ran and hid inside, assuming his dad drove it over, but, his dad was nowhere to be found. Only much later, did his father arrive, and immediately proceed to give him shit for driving the Winnebago from their campsite. Evan never learned how the Winnebago showed up there, and eventually forgot about it. Only now did he remember the event, and only now was he puzzled over how the camper, with no driver, show up a dozen miles away from their campsite.

His entire life was spent with the Camper. It was the only constant in his life, and now it was a burning husk. Just like that.

Evan's thoughts also turned to his father. He was still out there somewhere, and Evan didn't even know if he was still alive or not. If he didn't show up soon, Evan would have no choice but to enter the medium without him.

Turning, Evan buried his sadness, and began to mechanically preform the entry procedure. He approached the Cruxtruder and released a burgundy orb, along with a dark red crystal totem from within the Device. The Cruxtruder's timer displayed 10:00, but Evan gave it no attention. He knew what he was doing, he didn't need that long. Perhaps even, his dad would meet up with him here, before the timer hit 00:00

Captchaloguing the cylindrical totem, and letting the orb do it's thing, Evan marched over to the Punch-DesignX, uncaptchalogued the totem's card, and had it punched. Earlier, Evan would have felt genuine curiosity for these devices, and excitement for all the commie-killing devices he could make with them, but now, he no longer cared. He just wanted into the medium, and to get this crap over with.

Taking the punched card, he walked over to the Totem Lathe, slid the crystal totem into it's designated position, and inserted the punched card into the appropriate slot. With a hum, the lathe's blades sped up, and began to flay a shower of rocky chips from the totem. Evan merely raised a hand to shield his eyes, and stood in place, watching the machine until it finished.

Captchaloguing the finished totem, Evan went to the Alchemeter, slammed the totem on the pedestal, and punched the activation button.

A robotic arm unfolded from the machine, and began to scan the carved, curvy totem. Satisfied, the arm withdrew, and with a flash, the totem vanished, and in it's place, on the center platform of the Alchemeter stood an ornate, burgundy crystal box.

Picking it up, Evan examined it, his curiosity returning. He understood that symbolic means were needed to activate the entry objects, but he didn't know what the hell could be symbolic about a box.

Nonplussed, he tried to open it. To his frustration, the damn box didn't open. Turning it over, he saw that it had a key-hole on it's forward side. Ah, he understood, it was locked. Fortunately, Evan had plenty of experience with locked cabinets and map-cases. Evan had yet to meet a lock that could stand up to a bullet. Still though, Evan didn't intend to enter the medium yet, his dad hadn't arrived yet, and Evan would wait until the last for him. No-one got left behind, if he could help it.

Striding over to the blast door, ignoring the buzzing from his backpack, which was likely Chris on pesterchum, wondering why Evan wasn't in the medium yet. Looking outside, his eyes roved the smoky complex grounds, desperately searching for any sign of the man who, deep down, Evan knew would never come.

Gazing upon the Winnebago's wreckage, Evan's blood began to boil. Evan never got depressed, or sad, or angsty. Evan, plain and simply, got angry. And when Evan got angry, Evan got violent. Very violent. The Black King had no way of knowing this yet, but he had just made a very, big, mistake.

Glancing back at the Cruxtruder, he noted that there were two minutes left. Glancing at the orb that was still following him around, Evan realized that he'd forgot to prototype it. Still, he had something in mind...

Reaching into his backpack modus, he pulled out a _**HellSpike Demon**_ WarSlammer miniature that Chester gifted to him a few years ago. Though Evan didn't admit it, he thought it was kinda cool, what with it's spiky-ness and its enjoyment of killing things...

With a shrug of "why not", he tossed the miniature into the orb. A flash of light erupted from the orb, and when his vision cleared, Evan saw the Demon miniature...scaled up to, like x4 size, just floating there, and staring at him blankly. It was just as horrifying as it was on in the fan-art Chester found on the internet. Normally, Evan would have loved it, and immediately set out upon it's back to slay commies... but, in light of recent...events, he was not in the mood.

Having no desire to interact with the thing at the moment, Evan looked back at the devices in the room. The Cruxtruder's timer now read just over two minutes.

Realizing that the time for moping around was over, Evan took one last look at the Blast door, and, seeing nothing, went back to the locked box he left on the Alchemeter. Unchanging his favorite rifle, Evan aimed at the box, and fired.

The bullet ricocheted off the box and nearly took his head off. The horrifying Demon floating behind him made a gurgling noise, as if to say 'watch it, dumb-ass.'

"Oh, shut up," Evan muttered, as he examined the box. There was no visible damage upon the box, a concept that Evan found quite irritating. Not in the mood for the box's shit, he decided to just go overkill on cracking it open.

The handy thing about the backpack modus, was that it had infinite storage space, but the weight of whatever was inserted, was felt by the user. Thus, Evan, with his strength, could (and did) carry a veritable armory of weapons.

He reached in, and uncaptchalogued a seventy-five caliber anti-tank rifle, which he'd taken to carrying on him ever since _that one incident_... with the Korean tank... and the U.N journalist...and the Mime...Needless to say, Evan was determined to never again be caught without the capability to bring down a tank.

Walking a few paces away, he lay down on the ground, sighted directly on the box's lock, and fired...

There was an eardrum-shattering explosion as the miniature cannon fired. Dust and plaster fell from the ceiling as the sheer magnitude of the shock-wave hit it. Evan would have had a shattered shoulder, if he wasn't already used to the rifle's...unique temperament.

The shot hit the box dead on...and disintegrated.

Again, no damage was done.

Evan, being an intelligent fellow, came to the _astounding_ logical conclusion that _maybe_ , the box was invincible, and that head-on violence, was (sadly) not the way to open it.

Thus, he took it in his hands, and began to examine it further, trying to brainstorm ideas. The counter, meanwhile, counted closer and closer to zero. The bunker began to be shook by light 'thuds' on the roof that caused more dust and plaster to fall. The meteors were increasing in size, he noted. That was...distracting, to say the least. Couldn't those stone assholes see he was thinking here, Evan mentally shouted in frustration.

Then, an idea hit him. It was simple. Very simple. He would just take a page out of Chris's playbook, and pick the lock. Besides, last time he checked, picking locks was not considered to be 'violent', in any definition of the term.

Uncaptchaloging his knife, he gently slid it into the lock, and began to jimmy it around. As the timer hit 00:20, he heard a satisfying click, and a white flash began to engulf the room. Within his last milliseconds of consciousness, Evan thought he saw a green flash out of the corner of his eye. Then, the timer hit zero, and everything went black.

 **A/N: Well dang, that was kind of a downer. Anyway, the next two chapters will be (in no particular order) an Evan and a Chris chapter. Also, just putting it out there; the Winnebago is not what it seems...we may not have seen the last of it... the word "green flash" is a pretty significant clue... Anyway, ill see you next time, thanks for reading. :)**


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the late update. Exams are coming up, and Im currently in "full study mode" so, sadly, I will have very little time to work on new chapters, until exams pass. Expect maybe, like, one more chapter, at some point in the next two weeks.**

 **Anyway, I own nothing save the OC's, please review, and thanks for all your support. I hope you enjoy.**

Inside a dusty, bunker, a lone figure, sprawled on the floor began to stir.

Grunting, Evan shakily stood up, shaking off whatever sleepiness still clung to him. He was very used to waking up at strange times. Living in a place where a moment's inattention meant death, meant that he quickly learned to wake up and begin to properly function, after only a few minutes of being awake.

Glancing around the room, Evan noticed that something was...off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt not-quite-right. Sleepy, Evan reacted automatically. He casually reached for the gun in his backpack modus, while slowly surveying the dim chamber. Satisfied that there were no immediate threats, Evan lowered his hand.

It was only at this point that Evan began actually remembering _why_ he was in an underground bunker. Before, he was just instinctively acting to identify threats and secure the area.

He remembered the refinery, the meteors, and... the Winnebago, his father.

Glancing around, he grimly surmised that he was now in the medium, and that his dad hadn't made it. Somehow, the lack of closure about his fate made Evan feel all the more empty. At least he saw the Winnebago burn. At least he got to say goodbye, and to know, for certain, that it had fallen.

Speaking of the Winnebago, Evan's eyes widened as he realized just what exactly was wrong with the bunker.

The Winnebago was parked, right beside the Alchemeter. There was not even a scratch on it's poorly made paint-job.

Evan was so used to it's presence, that he just sleepily scanned over it, not bothering to note it's presence. Only as he became more awake, did his subconscious began to ring alarm bells that the Winnebago had been destroyed earlier, and that it shouldn't be here.

Yet, there it sat, as solid and dependable as ever.

Blinking, Evan stared at it, fully expecting it to vanish, or to be a stack of crates or something, a trick of the light.

Yet, there it remained, corporeal and as real as it ever was.

Slowly, Evan walked upto it, expecting to wake from a dream at any point. Yet, he wasn't dreaming. He lay a hand on it's armored skirt, running it along the worn and battle scarred metal.

He opened the main door, and stepped in. Everything was unchanged and in it's proper place, nothing was out of the ordinary. The whole experience was so surreal to him, that Evan just staggered over to the driver's seat, and just sat down.

Evan lost track of how long he sat there, head rested against the steering wheel, feeling completely brain-dead from all the shit that had happened recently. Finally, he sat up, uncaptchalogued his keys, and slid them into the ignition.

The Winnebago emitted it's trademark sputtering cough that sounded like an asthmatic honey-badger had a plastic bag in it's throat.

Still, it ran nonetheless.

He couldn't believe it, but for all intents and purposes, the Winnebago was back. But, it _was_ destroyed. That Evan knew. He _saw_ it burn. Thus, the (very) small rational part of his brain argued, something happened that fixed the Winnebago, and then dragged it into the medium after him.

Currently though, Evan didn't care. He was completely ecstatic and perfectly content to credit Sburb-related shenanigans. The Winnebago was back. All Communists beware! He grinned maliciously, overjoyed to be reunited with the only other member of his family. Patting the dash, he fantasized finding this 'black king', and crushing him under the Camper's wheels.

His joyous celebration was interrupted by his laptop, buzzing in the depths of his backpack.

Fishing around for it, Evan pulled it out to see messages from Chester and Chris. Naturally, he assumed whatever Chester had to say would be short, to the point, and most importantly : ACTUALLY RELAVANT TO THE SITUATION, as opposed to Chris's ramblings.

All Chris likely had to say was something time-wastingly pointless like "Oh wow! Your Winnebago is back! Isn't that great! How wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"

Yes. His Winnebago was back. Yes, It was wonderfull. No, he did not need to be reminded of that observable fact by a third party.

Anyway, he returned to the laptop

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IL: Evan.

IL: I know you're awake. Chris can see you.

IL: Evan. Answer me.

IL: This is important.

IL: I'm happy and all. That your Winnebago is returned to you. But we can celebrate later.

EE: Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm here, What is it?

IL: Right. So. Now that we are all in the medium. We need to figure out our course of action.

IL: We have twenty-three hours to kill the black king. And to stop the reckoning.

EE: Right, so, I guess we should prototype shit, explore our planets, and somehow reach the battlefield.

IL: Yeah. Ill work on finding a way to the battlefield. You guys just explore your planets. And prototype weapons.

EE: Right on. I have so many weapon ideas right now, that, well, … the black king is going to be burned, poisoned, shot, stabbed, disemboweled, flayed, electrocuted, and irradiated at the same time.

IL: That sounds...like overkill.

EE: That's the best kind of kill.

IL: I never said that was a bad thing.

EE: heheheheh. Right, see ya later, then.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Disconnecting from the conversation, Evan's mind was abuzz with the sheer amount of things he was going to prototype. But, there was one project, that, above all others, he wanted to do. His father had given the Winnebago many upgrades...

Now it was Evan's turn. If all went well, then he wouldn't need to wait for Chester to find them a ride to the battlefield...

Then his laptop buzzed again, signifying a message from Chris. Broken out of his deranged murder fantasies, Evan responded to Chris.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: EvanEvanEvan

EE: Goddamit, Chris, What do you want?

IC: Iwas worriedthat youdidn't getinto themedium,

IC: Thenyou did

IC: Andyour Winnebagowas broken

IC: And nowit's not! :)

IC: Isn't thatgreat?

EE: Yes, it is.

EE: Is there anything else?

IC: Well Iwasgoing to go...explore myplanet.

IC: So Icant buildstuff foryouright now.

IC: Isthat okwith you?

EE: Sure, knock yourself out, I have prototyping to do now anyway.

IC: Haveyou seen your planetyet?

EE: Nope,

IC: Why?

EE: Outside the bunker, are enemies. When I head out, It'll be armored and armed.

IC: Okthen, give themwhat for. Im...goingtoleave nowbye!

\- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Well that was odd, Evan thought. It was like Chris was anxious to leave, or something. Then again, Chris was prone to overreact over anything. When ColaCola changed it's formula, Chris nearly had a panic attack over it and damn-near had an existential crisis.

So he was probably freaking out over nothing, Evan reasoned.

Now then, the prototyping equipment awaited...

Evan entered a happy routine of working. He collected and captchalogued totems from the Cruxtruder, he retrieved various items from the Winnebago he wanted, including: a chain-saw, flashlights, a gas-mask, an armored helmet, a blowtorch, a propane tank, a flash-drive, his laptop, a pair of gloves, a ceremonial North Korean officer's sword, and the keys to the Winnebago.

Then, bringing them over to the Punch-DesignX, Evan went to work getting every singe card punched. Then, he began to combine the codes of various items.

With that finally out of the way, Evan went to get the totems carved. Soon, the floor was almost buried beneath a fine crystalline powder, and all his totems were done... Now, the fun part began.

Approaching the Alchemeter, Evan set the totems in their designated spot, and began to create his "masterpieces".

A fusion of his gloves and his laptop resulted in his thick combat gloves having a small touch-screen embedded in the right-hand glove.

Fusing the gas-mask, helmet and laptop created, in his opinion, the coolest helmet ever. The front portion was a crimson, steel gas-mask, while the rest of the full-face helmet was regular, gray metal. The eyepieces contained miniature computers that could be minimizing by the use of a switch on the helmet's side.

Evan immediately put it on.

Next, he fused the Winnebago's keys with the flash-drive. This created a device that could activate the Camper, while being quite small and portable. It also cut down on the jangly and loud keys, that all too often nearly gave Evan away while he was sneaking.

But Evan wasn't finished with it yet. He next fused the camper USB, with his right glove. This resulted in the right glove having the key-device stored in the tip of one finger. Thus, so long as he wore his gloves, the Winnebago's keys would, quite literally, be on his person, and impossible to lose.

Now, he gleefully decided, it was weapon time.

He first combined the propane tank, and the blowtorch. The result was a flashlight sized device, that functioned like a hand held flamethrower. Next, he added that to his left glove.

The result was a small, glove mounted flamethrower that could be activated by a flick of the hand. It was connected by wires to the propane tank.

Looking at the awkward fuel source for a few moments, Evan was struck with an idea. He took the tank, and captchalogued it. The glove however, remained. The cord from the glove ran into his backpack now.

Putting the left glove back on, Evan pointed it into an empty corner, and gave it an experimental squeeze. Satisfied by the short burst of fire that came out, Evan let go of the trigger. It had quite short range, he noted, but it would be a very _pleasant_ surprise to any foe that got too close to him.

Turing back to his assembly line, Evan took out a totem that was made from the fusing of a sword, and the chainsaw. If this worked like he hoped it would, his dream of a chainsaw-gun-sword would soon become a reality. He'd tried making it many times before, but he was always stopped by the fact that chainsaws were stubby, short, and very awkward to carry. They most certainly were not designed to be held one-handed and slashed with, Evan sadly noted. How have people not noticed all the cool applications for chainsaws? Evan thought. Was he the only visionary that noticed their combat potential?

No matter, he thought, pressing the activation button, Chester thought it would never work, but oh well, he would show them... he would show them all...

The result of the fusion was everything Evan dreamed it would be. It was an elongated chainsaw. It was long, and very narrow, like a sword. It had a cutlass style hand-grip, that had a trigger for activating the blades.

Gently picking it up, and caressing it, Evan noted how light it was. The second major problem he had with chainsaws, the weight, was also gone now.

Taking a few swings into thin air, Evan excitedly pulled the trigger, and with a menacing roar, the chainsaw blades whirred into action. He was so caught up in slicing up the air, (And imaginary foes), that when his sprite approached him, Evan nearly took it's head off by accident.

" **Heeeeeyyy** " it protested, " **Watch it!** "

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there," Evan bashfully replied.

" **What' the deal with all your weapons, man? You gonna fight someone?** " The sprite asked, in a tone... that Evan just couldn't place. It sounded so familiar, he swore he'd heard it before... It was so mellow, that it really didn't fit with the spiky nightmare floating before him.

Remembering that it had just asked him stuff, Evan hastily said,

"Well, yeah... The black king, and stuff."

" **Can't you talk it out, man? Violence is never the answer.** " The sprite said in a...mellow voice.

" EXCUSE ME?!" Evan shouted, "VIOLENCE IS ALWAYS THE ANSWER!"

" **Nah, man** ", the sprite babbled, unfazed, " **Violence is, like, a tool of the Authorities, to restrict your freedoms and stuff. Make love little dude, not war,** "

That statement. That statement instantly made Evan remember where he had heard that accent and mentally challenged speech pattern.

 _ **Hippies,**_ he growled. In his world, Hippies were almost as bad as communists. Hippies were filthy, bleeding-heart traitors that got in the way of glorious Commie-killing. His dad said that hippies made the U.S of A leave Korea... _WITHOUT FINISHING THEIR JOB_

For that, Evan made hippies his _second_ most hated mortal enemies.

Evan was... shocked and betrayed that his own sprite, would betray him in such a manner. He would have tried to summarily execute it on the spot, if he wasn't fairly sure that sprites were invincible.

Thus, his hands were tied.

"Just _**leave**_ ," He growled at it.

Taking the hint, the sprite (wisely) raised it's arms in surrender, and floated away.

Once it was on the other end of the bunker, it stopped suddenly, as if remembering something, turned around and shouted,

" **Oh yeah, I totes forgot, do you want, like, mystic guidance and stuff?** ",

"Not from you", Evan called back.

The sprite lowered it's head, sad, and floated into one of the adjoining rooms.

Now then, Evan sighed, returning to work. Time to add the 'gun' part of the Chainsaw-gun-sword...

He captchalogued the Chainsaw-sword, and got out it's card. Running to the Punch-DesignX, he combined it's code with that of his rifle.

He was given a punched card that was the combination of both codes. Taking it to the Totem Lathe, along with a spare totem, he got the card's totem carved.

Next, he placed the totem in the Alchemeter, and, giddy with excitement, activated the machine.

A flash of light later, an...unchanged chainsaw-sword lay on the platform. Picking it up, disappointed, Evan noticed that, no, it wasn't quite unchanged...

A hollow cylinder now ran down the center of the metal blade, and a new trigger was added in the grip. Cautiously (Because gun safety, that's why), Evan raised the sword, and pulled the (presumably) rifle trigger. With his rifle's trademark 'bang', a shot erupted from the tip of the sword. Since it was pointed straight up, it proceed to impact the ceiling, and shower Evan with a hail of dust and plaster.

Now having learned where the projectile was fired, Evan pointed his sword horizontally, at a wall, and fired several times. Approaching his target wall, he was pleased to see a...not awful target grouping on his shots.

The sword was...not very accurate, but that was fine with him, he'd just mainly use it to surprise enemies at close range, anyway.

Struck by inspiration, he quickly modified his ammo belt, to have a jury-rigged sword sheath on it. Sliding his now complete Chainsaw-gun-sword into the hip slot, Evan felt like a true badass.

Deciding that his equipment situation was finally 'good enough', Evan turned to the blast-doors, and decided to venture outside.

Standing in the door-frame, he looked outside. Sprawling before him were vast dunes of fine, gray sand. The sky was overcast with black as pitch clouds. Far in the distance, he could dimly make out lakes of...lava? And beyond that, mountain ranges. But, the smoke and clouds really didn't let him see that far with any degree of accuracy. The smoky skies reflected the lava's red glare, to create a sunset-like crimson glow in the sky. Evan found it too similar to the meteor's red skies for his liking.

As he looked out upon the haunting, yet somberly beautiful hellscape, a name ran through his mind,

 _ **'Land of Ash and Citadels'**_

"What the hell was that?!" he shouted in alarm, whilst unsheathing his chain-sword (Which he totally named just now. With a totally original name. Evan bet no-one had thought of that before). _He_ most certainly did not just think that sentence. Was something trying to psychically attack him or something?

If it was, then it was making a very big mistake. Possibly, the last mistake of it's life.

"COME AT ME FILTHY WITCH!" Evan roared, brandishing his chain-sword threateningly, and swinging it in circles over his head.

…

…

...

Nothing came at him. No new things went through his mind. Everything was still, save for the light wind washing over the dunes.

Cautiously, he lowered his chain-sword. Still nothing came at him.

"Fine then. Let that be a warning to you." He called out, sheathing his sword, but still keeping a wary eye on the dunes around him.

With nothing to do inside, save for building the bunker higher to reach the crimson portal that Evan knew would be somewhere above him, hidden in the clouds. . Not that he could do that anyway, Evan realized, he needed Chris to build the structure for him, and since Chris was...off somewhere, Evan had his hands tied for now.

Speaking of Chris, Evan wondered what the hell Chris was up to. Evan remembered him mentioning that he was going to 'explore his planet'.

Evan didn't buy it for a second, though. Chris was an awful liar, and, while exploring one's planet was a perfectly reasonable and unsuspicious thing to do, the way Chris phrased it though, as if he was asking for permission, was the same way he _always_ talked when he was hiding something.

Then again, Chris was always shifty about one thing or another. To be frank, Evan really doubted whatever Chris was up to had any bearing on the general mission. Thus, Evan didn't care in the slightest, he had more important things to do, anyway.

For instance, he was intending to find his consorts, and, at some point, begin work on his top-secret project. Walking to the bunker's entrance, he looked out, trying to find any trace of a village or settlement. Standing there, straining his eyes, Evan couldn't see anything. After looking for a few moments, Evan mentally slapped himself when he realized that he had a perfectly good scoped rifle in his backpack, that could have saved him so much time. Pulling out the rifle, Evan gave the horizon another once-over.

Sure enough, he managed to make out some clearly artificial structures far on the horizon, just on top of one of the dunes. Other noteworthy landmarks he found included an eighteenth century-style fortress...thing that was just on the edge of his vision. It was built out of some-sort of black rock, and was quite big, even from this distance. Though Evan preferred an aggressive, assault oriented combat style, he still liked fortifications, and this thing, whatever it was, was pretty cool.

Based on what Chester had told him, Evan surmised that the star-fort was quite likely to be where his planet's denizen was located, and, from Boreall's description of Denizens, Evan knew that they were certainly something he didn't want to tangle with... without a portable nuclear warhead anyway...

So, as much as he wanted to check out the fort right away, he knew that visiting the boring and stupid village would have to take priority. Sighing, Evan made to start hiking towards the distant village... before he got a better idea.

Why walk, he reasoned, when you can drive...

Thus, Evan hopped into the Winnebago, and slowly navigated out of the bunker. Once he managed to squeeze out of the bunker, he began to cruise through the ashy sands...or rather, very slowly putter along, as the ash was difficult to get traction on. Oh well, it beat walking.

On the way to the village, Evan passed various horrific and deformed spiky black creatures that tried to chase him. Unfortunately for them, while the Winnebago was slowed by the sand and low traction, they were slowed by it even more. Grinning, Evan left most of them in the dust (literally), as he drove past, honking his horn mockingly at them.

Spying a group of some of the smaller ones, (imps, Chester called them, he thought), Evan got an idea. Lowering his window, he stuck his flamethrower glove outside the vehicle, and turned the Winnebago to put them on the driver's side... and completely engulfed the dimwitted enemies in a gout of burning propane.

Cruising past their burning forms, Evan glanced in the rear-view mirror, to see them burst in a shower of grist, and fade away a few seconds later, presumably, to appear in his grist counter.

After a while of uneventful driving (and a few more drive-bys), Evan arrived at the outskirts of the village. He could already see one of the occupants of the village shuffle forwards in curiosity of the RV.

These consorts resembled bipedal lizards of some kind. The one in front of the Winnebago, had sand-red leathery looking skin (hide?), with large, bulbous eyes on top of it's snout. It had two arms and a jaw full of very menacingly sharp teeth, its back was a mess of spikes... it was kinda like a porcupine really, Evan noted. To be honest, he thought his consorts would be cooler than this. Although, these weren't _completely_ terrible.

It's behavior though, left much to be desired...

As Evan pulled up beside the small creature, he lowered the window and said,

"Hey there, fella. Is this your village?"

The response was a frightened shriek, and the scampering away of the first consort he had so far met.

Hmm, he murmured. So they were cowards... was this planet trying to tell him something? Because if it was calling him cowardly, he would... he would... try to... figure out a way to hurt a planet, because, how _would_ one go about teaching a planet who's boss? No matter, he decided, that bridge would be crossed when he came to it.

Hopping out of the Winnebago, he advanced into the village. Though, it wasn't exactly a village. Not by a long shot. T'was more like twelve or eleven houses, clustered together, with a single cobblestone street running down the center of "town".

As he wandered down the small cobbled street, which was conspicuously abandoned... Were these things hiding from him?

Rounding a bend, he came across a few imps, bearing the spiky bodies of the demon he prototyped. They were milling about in the center of the street, mindless as ever. Absentmindedly, he dispatched them with a few swings of his sword, scattering grist across the street, and continued on his way.

Seeing the imps in town gave him an idea, what if, the consorts weren't hiding from _him_ , but something else... Still, hiding from imps, that was inexcusably pathetic. Like, seriously, he thought, a two year-old child, that was _crippled_ , could fight and win against an imp. Those things were like the most pathetic creatures to ever exist.

Though, to be fair, the goblins were easily a runner-up for second most pathetic.

Then, as he was silently mocking the consorts for their cowardice and failure to defend themselves, he heard rhythmic thumping, echoing through the town...

Wind chimes on one of the houses began to shake, and produce an eerie vibe...

Pebbles on the road began to rattle, and the windows in the houses began vibrating in their frames...

It was at this point that most people would get a 'bad feeling' and "NOPE" out of the situation.

Evan however, was most certainly _not_ most people.

Excited, and with his curiosity piqued, Evan drew his chainsword, tightened his grip on his flamethrower, and began turning his head to identify the location of this new enemy.

Then, a colossal ten foot tall creature rounded the corner, shattering cobblestones with it's vast bulk. Evan quickly analyzed it before acting.

Hmm... it was made of the same black carapace as the other enemies that he had faced, but this was significantly larger, and appeared to have thicker carapace in certain areas of it's body. It was bi-pedal, and very muscular, with a small head. It kinda reminded Evan of an ogre from that terrible Lord of the Kings movie Chester tried to get him to watch.

Still, the name fit, and Evan thus dubbed it "ogre".

The demon prototyped by Evan had given it vast quantities of spikes upon it's back and shoulders. Where Evan presumed it once had stubby, chubby, clumsy fingers, it now had vicious, serrated talons.

All this he thought, in less than a few heartbeats.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

Then, with a deafening roar, it went to all fours, and charged at him with all the fury of a freight train.

Pointing his sword at it, Evan roared, and met it's charge.


	16. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Hey guys! Exams aren't over yet, but I got this up and done (finally). Yay!**_

 _ **Anyway, once Exams are over, I can enter a new schedule of updating. Sorry about the wait, and I hope you enjoy.**_

Upon a world of smog and gaslight, Chris was taking his first tentative steps outdoors. After he stopped talking with Evan, Chris went to leave the apartment. Opening the door, he took a step forward, into the hall, when he nearly fell to his death...

Well, no. Not his death, but that still was a big drop.

The hallway, and all the other apartments in the building were gone, he noted, shivering in the door-frame. Glancing down, Chris reasoned that it was, at least a twenty foot drop.

Looking out further, he could see that out of his apartment building, only his, and his neighbor's apartments were present. Currently, the rectangular structure was just sitting on a hill, resting on what appeared to be the torn-out top of his bottom-floor neighbor's apartment.

Around the apartment, further in the distance, the urban sprawl he had noticed earlier shimmered in the gloomy darkness.

Remembering what his new "friend" had told him to do, Chris began to carefully lower himself down. Descending through the apartment's mangled bottom part, Chris really began to miss being able to magically fly, like in his dream.

Hopping down, he set off into the city.

And then stopped ten steps later after he realized that he had absolutely no idea how to find his denizen.

Dang! He slapped himself. That was something he should have asked his friend about.

Then, he came to a solution. He would simply find one of the creatures that dwelled on his planet, and ask them about the Denizen.

Being unarmed, Chris really hoped he could accomplish all that without running into anything harmful. Still though, he was sneaky. Hopefully that would see him through any... problems that may occur.

Turning towards the city, Chris pondered for a moment on which way to go, but seeing as the city stretched on in all directions, he just decided to simply continue forwards, and hope that some locals were nearby.

After a minute, he entered the city streets. The fog was denser here, with the few light-posts around giving the narrow, cobbled streets an eerie vibe. The two story buildings around him were of rather poor quality. Their wooden beams were rough and cracked, the paint was flaking, and their windows were grimy. The street was seemingly deserted, and Chris found the lack of life kinda unsettling.

Deciding to not take chances, he crouched, and held close to the walls of buildings as he slowly advanced. In the darkness and the fog, he was almost impossible to see. Though, Chris was _fairly_ certain that there were no enemies nearby, he was just trying to stay on the safe side.

As he continued down the street, he came to a three-way intersection. Here, a wooden wagon was parked, and two... small dinosaurs? Clustered around it, jabbering shrilly.

"MERP!" one declared.

"merp" the other responded.

They then entered an endless chant of the word "merp"

Chris was so baffled that he thought his brain broke for a moment.

Gathering his thoughts, he began to observe the two creatures that hadn't yet noticed him.

They were both scaly, green, bi-pedal small... creatures, that closely resembled a tyrannosaurus, though one with a much straighter posture. (Chris was proud for remembering that animal. Out of all the ones Chester explained to him, Chris only remembered that one, because it was the biggest and the toughest)

Anyway, despite their scales, they both seemed positively adorable, as if one of the stuffies in the neighborhood toy-store had come to life. From this distance, Chris could vaguely make out that... it didn't seem like they had teeth. If they did, it certainly was nothing close to the mighty array of the T-Rex's jaws.

All in all, he thought they looked fairly harmless. These, he decided, were likely his "consoles" or whatever Evan and Chester had called them.

Trying not to frighten them, Chris slowly stood up, and called over to them, as gently as he could,

"Hi there!"

They both turned his way and stared blankly at him.

He stared at them.

They stared at him.

This continued for a while, before one announced,

"MERP! NOT LIZARD!"

"not lizard" the other parroted.

"Yes, notalizard." Chris agreed,

They continued to stare at him, before the shouty one waddled over to him, and nuzzled his hand.

"NOBLE!" it declared

"noble?" the other questioned, with a hint of...awe? In its voice.

"Noble." the loud one confirmed.

"Whatsa noble?" Chris asked.

The louder one poked him in the leg, and said,

"NOBLE. NOT LIZARD. AS FORETOLD."

"MERP!", it then loudly added, as an afterthought.

Chris stared at it for a while, before remembering why he was talking to them in the first place,

"Ummm, doyou guysknow where the... "Denizen" is", he asked, placing extra emphasis on "denizen",

This elicited gasps of fear from them. Shuffling closer together, the larger one gulped, and said, stammering,

"MERP! Denizen bad. VERy bad. Lives in Clocktower," it pointed into the distance, where Chris could faintly make-out some sort of tower rising into the sky.

"DEINZEN name scary. VERY mean. BUT... we no see denizen in much time..." It paused, visibly uncomfortable with the subject.

This was when the other lizard butted in, "nothing comes out of clocktower no more. But we too scared to check"

Hmm, Chris thought, so their denizen hadn't been active recently, that was good. At least it was in one place now. And, that lizard had called it... Nyx? Hmmm, so that was his friend's "associate" then. Great. Now he just had to figure out how to get into the tower.

"Errr... how doI getinto the tower?" he asked.

The bigger lizard gave him a blank look, and squeaked

"MERP! DOOR!"

Ok then, he thought, there was a door, and probably stairs. Or a ladder. That was nice. Smiling, he said, "thanksguys, you've helpedso much" to the lizards.

"MERP!" "MERP!" "MERP!" came the response.

As he walked into the gloom, he could still hear them, merping away behind him.

Silently, Chris ghosted along the streets. As he got deeper and deeper into the city, he began to see more and more of the green reptiles dotting the streets. Some wore cute little top-hats and ties, others were peddling wares from little carts, whilst smaller ones ran around and played in the streets. The sound of merping, was omnipresent.

Watching from the darkness, Chris found it all really cute. Mainly just because the little lizards were absolutely adorable. Like, "I want to hug them till' they explode" adorable.

Still, he continued to the clock tower. As he went along, he got stuck in dead-ends _multiple times_ , as his path-finding strategy was mainly just to look at the tower, and try to keep going in that direction.

Rounding a street corner and facing his sixth or seventh dead end, Chris sighed in annoyance, and turned around, only to have his heart stop in terror as something that was most certainly _not_ a green lizard turned the corner.

It was about four feet tall, and covered with a black carapace. Dimwitted eyes stared from it's head, and it shuffled along the cobblestones with seemingly no purpose.

It was also naked...or at least Chris thought it was. Though the carapace made it totally genderless, and it had no real distinguishing...features... Chris could tell that it was likely one of the "enemies" that Chester and Evan had talked about a while ago.

Now, if Chris had payed _any_ attention to his friends earlier, he would have known that this was an "imp", and it was totally harmless.

Still, despite not knowing what he was looking at, Chris realized that it was likely featureless and naked because he forgot to prototype something. Dang, he thought. Chester had told him to do that, like, a dozen times. Chris could practically hear the lecture about "paying attention" already.

Returning his attention to the imp, Chris noted with satisfaction that it had not seen him, due to his masterful stealth abilities. Smiling, he slipped past it, and crept back the way he came.

Returning to the main street, Chris saw that it was now abandoned, and filled with milling packs of the small, black creatures, along with an isolated smattering of taller, and spindly ones.

They were all mindlessly milling about. Some were ransacking local stalls, the taller ones were breaking windows, while others still just moved around aimlessly.

Chris watched them for a few heartbeats, then, moved on, as silent as a ghost.

As he got back on the right path, he was pleased to see that he could finally see the foot of the clock tower through the fog.

Bolstered with renewed vigor, he silently dashed past the milling enemies, and soon came up to a point where the street ended, and an open square began.

From this distance, the fog was bearable, and Chris could fully make out the tower. It was a colossal thing, one that was perched by itself, in the empty square, and rose way into the heavens. Gazing up, Chris noted that it would give any skyscrapers he'd seen a run for their money. The tower was emblazoned with plenty of Gothic architecture, complete with intricate buttresses and balconies, and also packs of perched gargoyles that nestled in it's alcoves and nooks.

The clock face itself, was the most impressive part, however. It was about as tall as a two story house, and was fitted with colossal, intricately engraved silver clock-hands. The clock-face itself, was comprised of a curious sort of... glass? That caught the moonlight in a very shimmery and beautiful way. The clock-face seemed to ripple like water under the moon's glow.

Though Chris couldn't see the engravings, or much of the clock at this distance, he really wanted to examine it closer, by scaling the outside of the building...after he had spoken to this "Nyx" of course...

Though, this time he really found himself wishing for the flight powers he'd dreamed about. A fall from that height...would not be nice.

Casting his eyes to the main doors, Chris began to step out from his patch of shadow... before he noticed a _slight_ problem.

The square was filled with massive, beefy enemies.

Each one was, like, eight or nine feet tall, and covered in rippling muscle.

Though they appeared slow and dim-witted, Chris _really_ didn't fancy his chances with them.

Normally, he would just hug the edge of the street, and let the fog and darkness hide him from their gaze... but there was no street here... it was a completely open square.

To make matters worse, there were plenty of lights here, and nary a shadow to be seen.

Gazing about the empty square, he came to a plan... it was time to do something... drastic.

The ogre wandered around the square, bored out of it's skull. The noble it was supposed to fight was a no-show, and the denizen it was supposed to guard was gone as well. Though, it was a simple being, and could only express these thoughts through the most primitive of mental images.

Then, it bumped its leg on something.

Looking down in annoyance, it noticed an ornate garbage can, that was _definitely_ not there before...

It's dim mind began to slowly process what this meant.

As it was doing that, a cloud of ash burst from the can, and into his face. Roaring in surprise and pain, it startled and confused it's brethren, and began to blindly fumble at it's aggressor, as a small figure burst from a hole in the can's side, and ran for the tower doors.

By the time any of the ogres had realized what had happened and where their prey went, Chris was already inside.

One of their number started towards the entrance, before stopping.

T'was not their place to intrude upon the hallowed domain of a Denizen. Absent, or otherwise. Perhaps, if they were lucky, whatever end had befallen Nyx, the Night Mistress, would soon slay the noble as well...

Meanwhile, Chris sprinted into the tower, slamming the heavy, oak doors behind him. Running into the lobby, he turned around, and looked at the doors, pondering whether or not he should try to lock them, but he soon gave up, realizing that there was no way some wood would keep those ten-foot behemoths at bay.

Inspecting the lobby, he noted that it was very well furnished, with glass chandeliers, ornate tiled mosaics dotting the walls, and polished marble floors.

Dang, he thought, impressed. This Denizen had a sense of style.

Still though, those things would be on him at any minute, so time was of the essence.

Frantically, he silently scurried through the empty lobby, and turned down the first hallway he saw.

Chris continued taking turns at random, until he came upon a wide, circular staircase, that led straight up, into the blackness of the tower. Sighing, and once again wishing that he could fly, he started up the stairs...

Like, two hundred (or something) floors later. Chris staggered up to the next landing, completely exhausted and out of breath. Dropping to his knees, he sat there, panting, for almost ten minutes before he looked up.

Unbeknownst to him, the tower was getting more and more eerie. Lights grew sparser and dimmer, windows, and the pale moonlight they offered, became rarer and rarer, before disappearing completely, and the floors grew dirtier and more decrepit.

Though, since Chris was running up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him, he managed to miss all of it. Also, his excellent night-vision allowed him to not really notice that the area was gradually becoming a lot less well-lit.

Judging that he had recovered enough, Chris shakily got to his feet, and started to head back to stair climbing, when he was hit with an overwhelming wave of dread.

(Though, to be fair, most _normal_ people would have gotten creeped the hell out, and NOPED out of the building, like, a hundred floors ago.)

 _Only now_ realizing how spooky and unsettling his surroundings were, did Chris consider turning back, and maybe, that he may have been better off with the giant guys outside.

Still though, he argued with himself, he _had_ promised to go see his denizen, and... he would (reluctantly) go through with it... though, he still wished he could fly.

Continuing up the stairs, gritting his teeth and trying to not jump at every sudden squeak or groan of the building, Chris finally stumbled into the top floor of the building.

For a moment, he stood perfectly still, not comprehending. This was it. No more stairs...

Chris never wanted to see stairs again.

Anyway, he looked around the room that the staircase deposited him in.

He was inside the clock. All around him, large gears and machines who's purpose he couldn't even begin to guess at, clicked away methodically. Before him, a narrow catwalk stretched out through the emptiness in the middle of the clock, and connected to a platform on the other side.

Dimly, he could see an indistinct figure on the other side, facing the clock-face, with it's back to him.

"Hi there?" he called out,

The figure was silent, and did not stir.

Feeling uncomfortable, Chris hesitantly took a step onto the narrow walkway, and shuffled across the catwalk, nervously gazing down into the darkness below.

Finally, he reached the other end, and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Now, he was about five or six feet from the figure.

It was humanoid, about the size of an ordinary adult, and covered in a long, black cloak.

Huh, he thought. 'I thought Denizens were bigger than that'

Then, he mustered the courage to speak to it, in spite of it's unnerving tendency to stand there and ignore him.

"Hithere?" he ventured, quietly.

It was still for a moment, so when it whirled around to face him, Chris nearly leapt out of his skin, and almost fell into the abyss below him, before he regained his balance.

It stared at him, and tilted it's head, ever so slightly, as if amused.

'Jerk!' Chris thought.

He didn't say anything, and it didn't respond.

The awkward silence that ensued, gave him an opportunity to inspect it up close.

The black, hooded robe it wore, had gray highlights on the front, and an odd, circular, silver symbol upon it's chest, that was, like, a few silver streaks, arranged in a circle.

Other than that, it's robes were surprisingly plain, for a Denizen that kept such lavish downstairs, Chris noted.

Finally, it broke the silence, speaking in a croaking, vaguely female voice.

"You are late."

Chris was taken aback, all this hassle and needlessly cryptic stuff, and "you're late" is all it had to say?

" _Wellexcuse me_ " he said, in sarcasm, "Iwas justbusy runningfrom giantthings, and climbingall your stupidstairs", Waving his arms, he continued, "if youwanted to meetme sobadly, maybeyou couldhave met me halfway! Or...something."

Now, with his outburst echoing around the tower's blackness, Chris realized that he had just shouted at an adult...well, an alien adult, or something...

It just stood there, silently watching him, before it tittered in approval.

"Well, if little else, you have spirit."

It continued, "There is much to do, and little time. I shall be brief."

"You must return, and prototype something, in your sprite. While this is not imperative, it will make operations upon the battlefield easier, in the long run. You and your companions' ultimate goal, however, must be to slay the Black King. Upon his death, a door will appear before you, that will lead to your new universe."

Crossing (her?) arms, the denizen began to speak again,

"I will have further instructions for you as your quest progresses, but for now, all you need to focus on, is to reach the battlefield, and to slay the Black King."

Chris was kinda disappointed, that was it?

Slaying the Black King was the only thing they _DID_ know they needed to do. Here he was, expecting special and important revelations, and all this Denizen lady said was, "Kill the Black King".

As if sensing his (quite visible) disappointment, the Denizen lady added,

"Also, I have a gift for you. For your...cooperation in this matter. Though you may never fully comprehend the full significance of what you will be doing, all existence is at stake."

With that, she reached into her robes, and withdrew a...doorknob?

Yes, Chris confirmed, a doorknob.

She offered it to him, clutched in a gray hand.

Hesitantly, Chris took it, and examined it. It was a very fine piece of work, with a crystal handle, and a golden knob. Hold on, he paused.

Something in the crystal caught his eye.

Bringing it closer, Chris put it under the full scrutiny of his "Gem appraising eye". Inside, he could faintly make out wispy symbols...

He saw the silhouette of a green house, divided into four quadrants. As he held his gaze, one quadrant faded from green, to a red square, with a cog in the center. Then, another changed. This one was orange, with a golden sun in it's core. Another followed, turning blue, with squiggly lines that he couldn't interpret, framed in it's center. Then, the last one turned black, with the same symbol that he saw the Denizen wearing, in it's center.

Whoa. He thought, lowering the gem.

That was trippy. He wondered what all that stuff meant.

...Or maybe the Handle was just laced with some of his Bro' "fun powder", and Chris was seeing things again. The last time he had gotten into his Brother's backpack, He had vowed to never again ingest the "white stuff", after a serious conversation with Uncle Henry.

Chris knew that stuff was bad, because he never had any uncles. Or otherwise knew _anyone_ named 'Uncle Henry'.

He looked up, to thank the nice lady for her gift.

And it was a real gift this time! Not one of Chris's "borrowed" "gifts", but one that someone had actually given him. Awww, this was so sweet, he thought.

Although, as he glanced up, he found her gone.

That promptly startled the hell out of him, and nearly made him fall to his death, for a second time that night. Gazing around for the Denizen, Chris found that she was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, she vanished during his staring contest with the doorknob.

Chris just kinda stared out into the blackness for a few moments, trying to see where the heck the Denizen had gone. It couldn't have gone far.

But, it was just...gone, he realized. As if she had teleported, or flown away... Gosh he wished he could fly...

'Huh. Fine then.' He thought. 'Go ahead and leave me, then. What a rude jerk.'

"Well then," Chris grunted, there was no real reason for him to be up here now, was there? As far as he could tell, he now just had to go back, and prototype stuff.

OH! And do his orb-thing. He really needed to stop forgetting to prototype something with it. It was bad enough with Evan and Chester nagging him to do it, but now, with strange Denizens who he'd never met before telling him to "Get on with it!", Chris realized that _maybe_ , he should actually get off his ass and do it already.

Turning to leave the tower, he was suddenly reminded of...the stairs...

His eyes widening, Chris whispered, horrified. "no."

He then repeated, a bit louder, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

After like, five minutes of internally moaning about having to walk two-hundred stories. Again. Chris finally accepted that it was easier to walk down than up, and that there was no other way off the tower.

(Unless he felt like "flying", that is)

Thus, he took a heroic breath, and marched across the catwalk, and began his descent.

After two-hundred floors of pure torturous effort and physical exertion, Chris re-entered the lobby. Crouching in the shadows of the staircase, he cautiously descended into the open area, warily gazing around in fear of the giants from outside.

Though, to his wide disbelief and surprise, he found the exterior doors completely intact, and no other signs of the things making an attempt to follow him.

While others may have puzzled over this for some time, Chris was well-used to _**Light Souls**_ , and it's sometimes awful enemy path-finding and AI. So, the giants being un-able (or unwilling) to reach him, was nothing disconcerting or unusual to the young lad.

Approaching the door, with _slightly_ less anxiety and tension, Chris peered out of the glass windows in it, to see the Ogres dumbly wandering around outside, without a care in the world, just as they were earlier.

He was...disappointed to see them forget about him. These guys were too easy to sneak around and by-pass. When could he find something that _actually_ offered a challenge to him, and his mighty stealth skills?

Still, challenge or no, he had to get back to the apartment.

This time, he skirted the edges of the square like a shadow. No Ogre even noticed him.

Once he was past them, he returned to his routine of gliding silently in-between the foggy, darkened streets. With passing interest, Chris noted that there were significantly more of the short enemies around, as well as their taller, spindly escorts.

Of course, none of them ever even came close to seeing him, as he crept past them.

He even saw more of the larger things from the tower, wandering in the streets, occasionally smashing their tree-trunk like arms through the fronts of buildings.

Evan would probably have a field day here, Chris remarked.

For a long time Chris weaved through the gently lit streets, before he soon reached familiar stomping grounds. From what he could see, this area, just around his apartment, was a poorer area. There were less lights, the buildings were more run-down and older, and the cobblestone roads looked to be in much worse shape.

Still, he recognized this area, and was happy to be close to home. Also, he couldn't see any of the enemy creatures around, which was a plus.

Rounding a few more corners, he soon came face to face with the large empty field where his apartment had appeared on this world.

Happily, he approached it, and nimbly scrambled up the front, letting himself in through the front door. Upon entry, the mousey gray orb obediently floated over to him, and began to hover over his head.

"Right," he said, "I guess I need to do something with you"

Initially, he planned to put his custom Black Harasser action figure in it, but he soon realized that he wasn't willing to part with it. It was, after all, one of a kind.

Although, he had something else from _**Light Souls**_ that he _was_ willing to prototype...

Jogging to his bedroom, and deftly avoiding the junk in the halls, which were (somehow) messier than usual, Chris opened one of his drawers, and began searching for a certain action figure...

Finally finding it, buried under a bunch of other crud, Chris captchalogued it, and pulled out his Fetch-Modus to marvel at the figure.

It was a model of **Fluthulu**. The Dread lord of the Sunken Sunbro Island, and the only boss in the game that could be classified as "tough".

The figure itself, was an incomprehensible mass of tentacles, eyes, and various... orifices. It had six wings upon it's back, and had a cool tentacle beard, like Billy Jones, in that one Pirate movie...

The boss itself, was pretty cool, because it shot lasers. Lots of lasers. So many lasers, that it was kinda unbeatable until you got a pendant that made you lazer proof.

Sadly, Chris had no idea that enemies (and the Kings and Queens) take on the properties of anything that is placed in a sprite. Thus, he uncaptchalogued, and happily tossed the figurine into the expectant glowing ball that had followed him to his room.

The room was filled with a brilliant, white flash as the orb began to shift and warp.

When his vision cleared, Chris saw a scaled up version of the boss, floating before him, incomprehensible as ever, it's various tentacles swaying gently, and it's wings softly flapping. To be honest, Chris had never had this good of a look at it before, since, in game, it was always vomiting ungodly levels of fire-power in the player's direction.

Chris stared at it.

It stared blankly at him, with it's innumerable eyes.

He said "Hi there," smiling broadly as he did so, trying to put the many times this thing had blasted his character to ashes out of his mind,

Somewhere, beneath it's mounds of slimy tentacles, it made a gargling noise.

Chris stared at it expectantly, awaiting some form of speech.

A few seconds passed,

Then, a few more,

Eventually, Chris just resigned himself to the fact that this thing wasn't going to be co-operative.

Thus, he wandered away to the Cruxtruder, so he could begin turning his black-harasser costume into an actual set of armor.

Entering the living room, he passed by the junk-filled couch where his brother was napping, only to find that his Bro was now gone... Puzzled, Chris shrugged and went back to retrieving totems from the Cruxtruder.

With a good number of totems safely captchalogued, Chris went to his room to get some stuff for prototyping.

Upon entry, he made a bee-line for the closet, where he knew one of his action figures was. Pulling it out, he saw his _real_ target.

It's sword.

It was the exact type of sword Chris wanted, a shortened broadsword... Just it was as small as his pinkie finger, and made of plastic...

The prototyping process, he hoped, would make it big and strong.

Pulling the sword out of the figure's grasp, Chris captchalogued it, and carelessly tossed the figure to the side.

Then, he retrieved his hand-knit Black-harasser costume, some of the steel plates he had "borrowed", a cool fabric poncho he never got around to sowing onto the main costume, and some other nick-knacks he felt might become useful.

With them all safely in his inventory, Chris went back into the dingy hallway, and navigated to the hole in the roof, that led to his neighbors.

Scaling the hole, Chris vaulted into the other apartment.

Standing on the old people's soft carpet, Chris wandered leisurely over to the Punch-DesignX, or, as he knew it, "the thing that's not the Cruxtruder or the Lathey thing...or that other thing",

Approaching it, he began sticking item cards in it, and hoping for the best... which resulted in some... interesting new item codes being produced. Such as the cloth sword... which was about as useless as it sounded, and was made by fusing a sack with the plastic sword. Other items of note were the metal plate... which was made by fusing a metal plate with itself.

Eventually though, Chris began to get the hang of it, and soon he had made himself a code for _actual. Steel. Armour_. Soon, he also ended up with codes for a life-size steel sword, and a rough, cloth poncho, which he planned to cover his overcoat with.

The Black-harasser costume, was actually more cloth and regular clothing than armor, in reality. The only armored parts of the suit were a (newly made) steel helm, and some knee and elbow guards, along with some fortified plates on his sword arm.

The rest of the suit was just a black, long-sleeve coat that reached his shins. OH! and a cool hood.

With all the new item codes in his Fetch-Modus, Chris started off back into his apartment, to carve all these new things in the Lathe Device in his Kitchen.

On his way to the hole, Chris passed by one of the glass cabinets that housed the old folk's china collection. Smiling maliciously, Chris stopped, and turned to face his enemy...

Gently, he put a hand on the edge of the cabinet, and gave it a small tug.

With an almost graceful arc, the cabinet slowly fell to the ground, where the glass and the china shattered into pieces with an ear-grating crash.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

For several heartbeats, Chris admired the broken plate fragments, and how they mixed with the Apartment's carpeting, but then, the (rarely used) _responsible_ part of him, told him to move on.

Sighing wistfully, Chris carried on through the building. Reaching the hole, he swiftly hopped down, doing a roll to break his fall (and because he thought it would be cool).

He ended up rolling headfirst into a wall.

"DANG!", Chris violently cursed, holding his head in pain.

Hopping around, Chris tried sticking his head into his shoulder to try and alleviate his agony. It didn't help. Though, soon enough, much like stubbing one's toe, the pain went away.

Groaning, Chris hobbled to the kitchen, his shoes crunching on gray crystal shards, and stuffed a totem into the lathe, and inserted the steel armor's card.

Already knowing what to do, Chris covered his face as the machine spun up.

Soon, he was rewarded with a carved totem.

He did this a few more times, getting totems for the sword and cloak, but his short attention span soon demanded he move elsewhere.

Captchaloguing the last of the totems, Chris giggled happily, imagining how awesome it would be when he finally got his armor and sword.

"Ill teach those enemies and giant-things who's boss!" he declared,

Now, there was only one thing left to do, he remarked. Walking back to the hole, narrowly avoiding stepping in a piece of decomposing...something on the floor, Chris entered the hallway.

As he approached the hole in the ceiling, he heard a crash from within the apartment.

Glancing around, he saw **Fluthulu** floating around aimlessly in another room, knocking over various objects. Normally, this would have made a mess, that would have warranted cleaning. But in Chris's Brother's apartment, the broken objects on the floor, fit right in with the rest of the... "decor". Shrugging, Chris returned to the task at hand.

He took a running start, and began to quickly scamper up the hole, and into his neighbor's apartment.

Once again standing on soft carpet, Chris happily wandered over to the Alchemeter, his mood lifted even further, by the sight of fine china, shattered on the carpet where he'd left it earlier.

Approaching the Alchemeter, Chris eagerly replicated the actions he had preformed to conjure the gray curtains, placing the totem upon it's pedestal, and pressing various buttons at random. Because, let's be honest, he had _no idea_ how this stuff worked.

Pressing buttons indiscriminately, Chris paused as a sudden, loud 'thud', came from downstairs. He glanced down for a second, then went back to work, assuming it was just **Fluthulu** doing his thing down there.

After the correct button combination had been input, Chris took a step back, and the machine whirred into life, scanning the totem, and emitting various lights.

Soon, the totem had vanished, and, in a bright flash, the Black-harasser costume lay upon the pedestal.

Cautiously, Chris approached it and picked it up.

Tapping the metal joints, he was delighted to find that the painted cardboard was replaced with steel. The cloth also felt different now. It was more... rough, and coarse. Vastly more durable, he noted with satisfaction.

Giddy, Chris immediately put it on... Which, was _mildly difficult_ to do on his own. Still though, he managed... eventually.

Flexing, he found that it was slightly too big, but still in the realm of "good enough". It was exceptionally comfortable, he noticed. That was a plus, at least.

Thinking about how cool it looked, Chris really began to long for a mirror right then and there.

With the costume done, he set to work on the other totems.

Soon, the sword had been made, and lay on the platform, expectantly. It was about as long as most short-swords that he had seen, and rather wide. The blade, rather than being shiny, was a dull, inky color.

Perfect for absorbing light, and helping him keep to the shadows, he grinned.

Chris eagerly picked it up, and thrust it into the air. While it was no "mighty great-sword", like he had wielded in **Light Souls** , it was good, solid steel, and it would do.

(Gosh he had wanted to use that line for so long)

Anyway, Chris instantly began to swing the sword around, accidentally nicking a dresser (oops) in the process. Still, he felt on top of the world. He had his costume, he had his sword, what more did a man need in life?

(again, another line he had always wanted to say)

After the sword, there were only assorted minor accessories for him to prototype. He quickly buzzed through them, and hastily added him to his costume. Chris tossed the greatcoat over top of his costume, flicking the hood over his helmet, feeling like a total badass in the process.

As he stood in the room, with nothing to do, inspiration struck him.

There were many enemies outside, who were ravaging the city... perhaps, the Black-Harasser could... pay a visit to them, and teach them to pick on someone their own size.

(Conveniently disregarding the fact that Chris also stole from people... but, oh well, he didn't hurt people, at least.)

Striding to the window, coat flapping at his heels, Chris gazed out... into the thick, impermeable smoke.

Drat. He'd forgotten that was there. He was intending to have a cool, contemplative moment, where he observed the city below.

Now, he just felt foolish.

Ashamedly turning away from the window, he decided that, it would be pretty fun to " _test_ " his new weapons...

There were plenty of enemies outside, and besides, they dropped grist when defeated, so it wouldn't be a _total_ waste of time.

Besides, he could be in and out before Evan or Chester needed him to do stuff for them, and started nagging him to "get back to work". Thus, decided on a course of action, Chris happily went over to the hole, dropped down, and made a loud 'clang', as his steel boots hit the ground.

Hmmm, he thought, that could be a problem.

Though after a few seconds, he came up with a solution by simply uncaptchaloging some cloth, and wrapping it around the soles of the boots, so as to muffle their steps.

Continuing through the apartment, passing **Fluthulu** on the way, Chris made it to the door, and exited outside.

The air was a bit cleaner out there, perched on the entryway to the apartment, so Chris indulged in a contemplative gaze into the night...

For about five seconds, before he swiftly grew bored, and clambered down the torn up bottom of the building, and dropped down to the ground.

On the ground, Chris proceeded to simply retrace his steps, until he found himself, once again, among the dilapidated, two-story buildings.

Now, in the city, he began to move slower, and tightly hugged the edges of the streets, relying on the darkness and the fog to keep him concealed. He passed a few of the small enemies, here and there, **Fluthulu's** prototyping giving them large masses of eyes and tentacles, that stuck out in all directions, and smelled like an open sewer.

Chris didn't engage them. Not because he was scared... yes, that definitely wasn't the reason why.

He was just... waiting for the... opportune moment? Was that what Chester called it?

While he was thinking about attacking them from the shadows, he noticed a flicker of sudden movement, out of the corner of his eye.

Chris's instincts screamed at him to turn around as quickly as possible and identify the potential threat, but his seasoned stealth skills had taught him long ago, that sudden movements would be the death of a thief...Or, at least, would result in immediate expulsion from the candy store...

Thus, he slowly shifted his weight, and turned in an agonizingly slow arc to face his mysterious foe...

After almost a minute of heart-stopping terror in which Chris ever-so-slowly shuffled to turn around, he finally lay eyes upon the new entity in the street.

It was clearly one of the black-carapaced enemies, he noted. That much was obvious, at least. But it was distinctly different to anything that he had previously seen. From the small imp like things, to the slightly taller ones, or even the massive brutes he had seen earlier.

This one was taller than any of the 'normal ones', yet shorter and lankier than the massive brutes. Something that... kinda made Chris feel queasy, was the fact that, besides the tentacles and multitude of eyes, this thing was basically a walking skeleton. He could _literally_ see it's exposed bones.

It was facing away from him, and very tall, perhaps about six or seven feet, but it was hunched over, and leaned on an ornate staff for support.

Despite the visible fact that it was visibly frail, and seemed as fit and intimidating as a senior citizen...(Although, Chris feared the Elderly...so...bad example?), Chris could practically feel the aura of dread, authority and sheer unnaturalness that this thing emanated. Just being in it's presence made him involuntarily shiver.

Hmmm, he reasoned, it wasn't facing him, so perhaps he would just... fulfill his enemy defeating obligations elsewhere...

As he began to shift his leg in an attempt to vacate the area, the thing suddenly turned.

Chris froze.

Staring straight into it's face, Chris tried not to scream.

It was horrifying. Like gazing upon a corpse. It's face was a clean skull, devoid of any flesh. In place of eyes, two haunting orbs of cold blue stared at him from within it's skull.

Acting instinctively, Chris froze.

Even though it was gazing right into his eyes, Chris knew that, realistically, there was no way it could see him. Not only was his cloak helping to conceal him in the darkness, but the fog that hung over the area made it hard for _him_ to see, let alone someone gazing into the shadows where he crouched.

Still, the way it looked right at him, was absolutely unnerving. Chris fought the urge to break it's gaze. He knew that a movement of the eyes, could lead to an involuntary tilt of the head, and any movement, could be fatal.

Chris reasoned that after a few moments, it would grow tired of staring into the darkness, and leave.

It took a step forward.

Then, another.

Soon, it was shuffling towards him, it's staff tapping out a sinister rhythm against the cobblestones.

Chris stayed still, he decided that this was a ruse to flush him out. It likely was aware of his presence, but it couldn't see him. There was no way that it could.

Right?

It got closer.

Chris began to wonder if he should move, or run, or fight. Anything but this damnable waiting.

It was now about three yards away from him.

Chris held his breath, and tried to be a statue.

It paused, and slowly raised it's staff.

Chris shifted his weight, and prepared to run or evade at a moments notice.

A ball of baleful, flickering blue energy began to condense at the tip of the staff.

Chris lowered his hand to his sword.

It screeched, and with a blinding flash, the ball launched, straight at him.

Chris drew his blade, and dove at it...

 _ **A/N: So, just to clarify, the thing Chris has just stumbled upon is supposed to be a "Lich". These things only appeared in the background of, like, one cinematic in homestuck, but I read about them on the wiki, and thought they were cool. Also, the...entity in the clock-tower...is not Nyx. Anywho, thanks for reading. :)**_


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: So, here we are. First off, I wanted to have this up earlier, but various things (Writer's Block. Steam Summer Sale) had conspired against me, so, here it is, better late than never...right? 0.0**

 **Anyway, I am (finally) off exams, so now I can resume my (roughly) once a week update schedule. Also, I do not own anything here, save the OC's, so please don't sue me.**

 **And lastly, I hope you enjoy, be sure to review, and thanks for reading! :D**

Upon a land of glass and pillars...

For the first time that day, Chester finally felt like he was getting something accomplished.

Currently, he was in the kitchen of his house, talking to Harold and Commander Boreall, in the vain hopes that a plan to arrange some kind of 'transportation' to the battlefield could be brainstormed.

For a long time, Boreall had noting useful to contribute, and Harold could only bring-up vague prophesies and ancient tales... none of which were even _remotely_ helpful to the task at hand.

It wasn't _that_ hard, Chester reasoned. All _he_ had to do was to find a way to get himself, Evan, and Chris, to the battlefield. Meanwhile, the other two kids would continue to prototype their equipment, and prepare to fight the Black King.

After, like, … way too long of a discussion, Harold offhandedly mentioned something about a metal 'vanishing circle' in one of the towers, that sent any that tread upon it to another 'vanishing circle' in a different tower. Chester, realized that it must be a teleporter.

…

Or, at least, he _hoped_ it was a teleporter. Otherwise, they had absolutely no options.

Boreall, for his part, seemed to think that since the teleporter was a machine, it could be reprogrammed, and it's destination, changed. Chester felt inclined to agree. If only because it was their only hope. He had _absolutely_ no idea how to get off _his_ planet. Let alone visit other ones.

Chester felt something nudge him.

"Hmmm?" he turned,

Harold was prodding him with a tentacle.

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII nnneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedddddddddddddd aaaaaaa piiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeecccccceeeeeeeeeeeeeee oooooooooooooooooooooooffffff paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaappppppppppeeeeerrrrrrrr." Harold drawled.

"Err," Chester paused, "I don't keep paper downstairs" "Just, go use a napkin, or something", he gestured to a drawer.

Harold floated across the room, opened a completely _different_ drawer, and pulled out a long piece of fabric.

Having "Borrowed" a spare tablecloth, Harold plonked it down on the dining table, and proceeded to mutilate the hell out of it, having acquired a felt marker... somewhere.

Chester tried to protest, but stopped when he realized that Harold didn't care in the slightest about what he had to say, anyway.

Harold then spread out the tablecloth, and began to draw.

At first, there were only odd squiggles, but as Harold drew, Chester began to realize what this was.

This was a map of the planet.

Chester could make out what were clearly mountain ranges and rivers (indicated with half-assed triangles and squiggles), scattered across the tablecloth. Harold marked the house's location, with a star.

In passing interest, Chester noted that Harold had taken great pains to illustrate a large mountain on-top of the star that marked the house. Normally, Chester would have not cared in the slightest, but the sheer size of the mountain relative to the others, as well as the disproportionate level of detail put into it, made him ask,

"Hey, Harold"

"Wwwwwwhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttttt?" Came the snide reply. Honestly, Chester mused. Harold could not be snarkier if he tired.

"What is the significance of that mountain there?" He continued, undeterred, gesturing to it.

Harold paused his measured and precise sketching, and glanced at him.

"Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttt isssssss vollllllllllllllllllllllcaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnno. It beeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrs muuuuuuuuuch impoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrtanccccccccceeee ooooooooooooonnn yooooouuuuuurrrr Dennnnnizennnnn'sssssssss tassssssssssssk forrrrrrr yooooou."

'Hmm', Chester thought. So it only had bearing on the denizen. Alright, then. He would deal with that when it came to it. Right now, he had more pressing concerns.

Then, he realized the full impact of the rest of what Harold said.

As his eyes shrunk, he could only quietly murmur in horror,

"We're sitting on a volcano?!"

Harold reassuringly said,

"Reeeeeeellllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaax, immmmmmmmbecccccccccccccillllllllllleeeee. Theeeeeee vollllllllllllllllllllllcaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnno ooooonnnnnnllllly shaaaalllllllll eeeeeeruuuuuuupt innnnnn accccoooordaaannnccceee wiiiiiithh sssssoooomeee sssseeeequuueeennnncccceeee rrrreeeeellllaaaateeed tooooo theeee greeeaaat **Billlliooousss Sllliiiccck**."

Finishing his long-winded exposition, Harold went back to drawing, leaving Chester to think.

On the one hand, he was still disquieted about the possibility of the Volcano erupting, but then again, Harold was one of the smartest beings that Chester knew, and if he wasn't worried, then Chester figured that it may be best to just follow Harold's lead.

On the subject of this Billious Slick fellow, the good Commander Boreall had informed Chester that the consorts had a very... odd religion.

It could be summarized, that they all worshiped a colossal... frog.

The same frog, that just so happened to be the universe.

Presumably, Chester thought, it made _perfect sense_. If you were a floating squid, that is.

Regardless, if Harold said they didn't need to fret over the volcano, then Chester would give him the benefit of the doubt.

Returning to the map, Chester saw that Harold had taken the liberty of adding various circles all over the non-mountainous regions. These, he assumed, were supposed to indicate the pillars that stuck out of the ground every once-in-a-while. One of these, Harold highlighted, and circled.

Pointing a tentacle at it, the crotchety old squid declared that,

"Theeeeeeerrrrrrrreeeeee llllllllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss theeeeeeee teeeeeellllleeeeeeepoooorrrrrteeeeeeeeerrrrr,"

Gazing at the seemingly short distance between it and the house, Chester asked,

"How far away is it?"

" _ **Abooot hulf une hoour!**_ " Boreall helpfully interjected,

Half an hour. Hmmm, not bad. That could work, Chester mused. Though, he still had no plan, other than: 'go to teleporter, (somehow) make teleporter work properly, … , arrive on battlefield'. But, he realized. He had Boreall, who, being a sprite, had (sometimes useless) inside information on the game and how it worked. If there was _anyone_ that could manipulate or adjust a piece of technology that, quite frankly, didn't even exist on earth, it was Boreall.

As an added bonus, Chester thought, since Boreall was a Spess Ranger, it meant that he had some memories of distant war-zones, and far-off planets. How he even had those in the first place, what with his "being a plastic figurine", was beyond Chester. Though, he personally, suspected some form of 'prototype related majjyk shenanigans'. Boreall's memories of operating future technologies, would certainly prove quite beneficial, Chester decided.

Meanwhile, Chester dimly noticed as Boreall had suggested something stupid, and Harold called him a 'worthless, illiterate tin-can', Boreall, naturaly responded by, shouting,

 _ **"**_ _ **Though dure to disruhspect meh! Whai! Thou rupscullion! Feel deh wruth of mih STHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL REIN!"**_

And with that, Boreall reached across the table, and slapped Harold. The squid simply stared in shock at the sprite for a few seconds, before raising all his tentacles in a threatening pose, and beginning to slap the hell out of Boreall.

As the two were slapping each-other across the table, Chester continued trying to develop his plan. For directions, he planned to take Harold along. Chester really didn't know how acquainted the squid was with the local area, but, being a local, he had at least better knowledge on the surrounding locale than Chester or Boreall.

With most of the important parts pertaining to the plan settled, Chester announced his plan.

"Alright. This is the plan." he said.

Boreall and Harold continued bickering.

Sighing, Chester waited a few moments, before shouting,

"WILL YOU BOTH JUST STOP!"

They both stopped, in shock, and stared at him.

Chester had no idea why they were even bothering to listen to him, but he figured one valid hypothesis might be that they were simply not used to seeing him, the quietest, most passive person alive, act with... well... attention-grabbing loudness.

Satisfied with his current hypothesis, and with their rapt attention, Chester continued.

"So. To conclude what has been the most pointless discussion I have ever partaken in." He paused, staring pointedly at them, first Harold, then Boreall. Daring them to start something with the other.

Satisfied, he continued,

"Firstly. The three of us will travel to the teleporter's location. Harold. Will lead the way."

At this point, the aforementioned squid raised a tentacle, and helpfully added,

"Theeeee teeeeellllllllleeeeeeppppppoooorrrrteeeeerrrr isssssssss innnnnn ooooonnnnneeee oooooffffff theeeeeee sssssssssspppppireeeeesss."

"Well. That's nice to know. Thanks Harold" He gratefully said, (more out of joy that Harold hadn't taken that opportunity to insult Boreall again with that sentence)

Harold, not used to receiving praise... or, well, _anything_ other than awkward and moronic statements from his fellow consorts, just kinda floated there and didn't say anything.

For a moment, Chester entertained the notion that, were Harold capable of doing so, he would blushing right now.

He was beginning to feel a real connection with Harold. As...someone famous once said, 'great minds think alike'. In fact, Harold hadn't even insulted him...more than a few times...in the past three hours. Things were going swell.

"Yooooooooooouuuuuuu Suuuuuuuuccccck" Harold drawled,

Awww. Well, there was always hope for the future, Chester reasoned.

Trying to get everything back on track, Chester continued the meeting.

"Right. Well then. Once we arrive at the spire...teleporter...whatever. We will begin preforming experiments and tests on it. I will be honest. I have no idea how to work it."

He turned to Boreall.

"Thus. I will be relying on Boreall and his knowledge of future technologies to try and work this."

Triumphantly, the sprite did a fist-bump and heroically shouted,

 _ **"**_ _ **Ah. WEELL unluck deh sekrets of deh macheen!"**_

Harold (to his credit) narrowed his multitude of eyes, but refrained from commenting.

With nothing else really remaining on the agenda, and with both of his friends adamantly refusing to answer their pesterchum, Chester concluded that, there really was, nothing else to do back at the house, so, they may as well get the mission started.

"Well. If there are no objections. I suppose we might as well get this started." he said to the group,

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII ssssseeeeeee nooooo prrrroooobllleeemmmsssss wwwwiiith thiiiissss aaarrraaangeeemmmeeeent",

 _ **"**_ _ **Onwurds! Tuh uhdventur und gloree!"**_

And with that, Chester uncaptchalogued and put on his helmet, equipped his rifle, and left the house.

Walking a few paces, he turned, expecting to see them both following him, only to see both Harold and Boreall. Stuck. In the door-frame. Boreall was incoherently burbling something, while Harold was calling him a mentally impaired, insipid clod.

Chester sighed.

To be honest, he mused, he _was_ expecting crap like this.

'Why?', he thought, 'Am I the _only_ rational person in the universe?'.

He walked up, grabbed hold of Boreall's ghostly arm, and, before anyone could protest, pulled with all his might.

...

Admittedly, he _may_ have overestimated his own strength.

Instead of Boreall being sharply pulled out of the door, like he had intended, the good commander stayed firmly in place, wedged between the door, and the squirming (and cursing) Harold.

After a good, long while of tugging on Boreall's arm, Chester felt something give, and the two of them went tumbling outwards.

Harold, now free, simply floated past them, clocking the spess ranger with a tentacle as he went past.

Boreall groaned in protest.

Picking himself up, Chester just glared at his companions through his helmet. He had had too many damn interruptions to this mission already.

There was going to be no further fighting. There would be no further delays. The two of them would get their acts together. And they would get it moving.

Despite not being able to see his eyes, the two of them got the message, and quietly began moving.

They walked/floated to the edge of the mountain, and Chester took a moment to look up, towards the top of this 'Volcano' that apparently held his house. The top of the mountain wasn't _that_ far away, nor was the mountain _that_ steep. Were Chester a more... active (insane) individual, like, Evan for example, he would have immediately scaled the mountain, just so that he could stare down the rim of an, admittedly dormant (For now) Volcano.

He, however, was not quite that adventurous (stupid).

Not only was something like that completely unsafe, he also had stuff to do, and they could ill afford any further interruptions.

Curiously, he noted, the volcano had no smoke, or even heat-based air distortions wafting up from the top. Come to think of it, weren't volcanoes supposed to be naturally warm, or something? The temperature up here, was actually a bit colder than it was at the consort village, Chester noted suspiciously. It almost appeared as if the Volcano was... dead?

As he was drifting off in thought...again, a tentacle sharply slapped him, and jerked him back into the matter at hand.

Turning to face Harold, Chester saw the squid giving him a bored look. Harold then just nodded downwards, silently nagging Chester to stop lollygagging, and to get on with it.

Getting the message, he began to carefully descend the mountain.

As Chester carefully scampered down the mountain, cautiously watching his footing, Boreall and Harold, not needing to walk, just floated past him, and leisurely drifted down.

Cursing, as he slid on a patch of loose rock, for like, the umpteenth time, Chester noted with satisfaction that, at least, there were no imps or anything else nearby. _Their_ presence, would make the downhill descent _infinitely_ more...interesting.

At this point, both his companions had already reached the bottom, where the land leveled out. Envying their unfair flight, Chester grumbled and continued slowly making his way down. When he finally arrived at the bottom, Boreall at least had the decency to not comment on his...slow method of travel.

Harold, on the other hand, snickered a bit.

"Oh screw yourself." Chester muttered,

"Yoooouuuuu arrrrreeee meeeerrrreeeelllly jeeeellloooouuuussssss oooooofffff myyyyyyyyy llllleeeeeeeeevvvviiiiitatiiiiioooooon," The squid mockingly chirped.

Then, changing his voice to a more serious tone, Harold motioned for them to follow, and continued speaking,

"Theeeeee piiiiilllaaaar yyyyoooouuuu sssseeeek iiiisssssss thiiiiissss wwwwwaaaayyyy,"

With that, the squid floated off, seemingly expecting the others to follow.

Chester looked at Boreall, hesitated for a second, then, followed Harold.

They walked for close to ten minutes across the flat landscape of glass dust, with nothing happening. At first, both Chester and Boreall were on their guard. However, after a while, Chester began to think that, perhaps, the imps and goblins had decided to stay away.

If that was the case, then why? He wondered. Was it the party size that made them unwilling to attack? Their prior experience with the undertaker?

As Chester was pondering the absence of enemies, Boreall thought he noticed something moving behind a glassy dune.

'Oh well, T'was likely nothing,' the sprite reasoned.

As the small group kept walking/floating along, the landscape changed, from flat plains of finely crushed glass, to large, sloping dunes, with the strange, crystalline pillars in the distance. Curiously, Chester noted that they were going in the opposite direction of the consort village he had visited.

After a short while of walking in silence, Chester finally noticed a feeling that had been bothering him ever since they had entered the dunes, it felt like he was being watched...

Now, he was no fool, so he didn't immediately whirl around and scan the horizon. That would have given him away. And that, would not be good.

Instead, he slowly looked up, and unsuspicioulsy as possible, over the course of two full minutes, scanned various parts of the surrounding dunes.

…

Nothing.

Hmmm, Perhaps his "gut feelings" were wrong. Again.

Now that he thought about it, his gut was wrong more often than it was right. It really was kinda defective. He wanted a refund.

As Chester was griping about his instincts, and how useless they often were, a large shape appeared upon one of the dunes...

Soon, it was joined by many smaller shapes...

Boreall, glancing around again, (mainly out of pure boredom. Walking slowly through a desert was no task for a Spess Ranger!) noticed something indistinct atop one of the dunes to his left.

Doing a double-take, and looking closer, he noticed... more somethings moving around up there.

Uh Oh.

Chester was walking along, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut, wondering if it might be a stomach-ache, or something. Maybe food-poisoning? When Boreall poked him.

Turning around, he muttered,

"What?"

Boreall simply nodded at the dunes around them.

Chester glanced up, just in time to see the few black shapes dotting the dunes, turn into a solid black line of creatures, that completely filled the left side dunes.

"Oh.", he murmured, fumbling for the Undertaker,

Even though he couldn't see them well at this distance, Chester had a sinking feeling that he just discovered what all the imps and things were upto.

Grabbing his rifle in one hand, he poked Harold with the other,

Harold stopped, and floated closer to the group. Boreall also tightened up, until the three of them were standing in a circle, looking at the dunes with anticipation.

Chester focused on the indistinct enemies with the Undertaker's scope, and saw a solid mass of squirming imps, and barely better disciplined goblins staring down at him.

As he scanned down the line, he noticed something that made him nearly drop the gun in shock. Zooming in to get a better look, he noticed a...creature, that absolutely towered over the imps and goblins around it.

It was clad head to toe in Power-Armour, and was extremely bulky and muscular. Chester realized that this must be one of the 'Ogres' that Evan had mentioned in his last message.

What Evan had to say about the one he fought, wasn't painting a good picture of Chester's chances.

Apparently, Evan's opponent, had ignored being set on fire, survived nearly fifty stabs to the face from a chainsaw...sword, because... _of course_ Evan would make that. On top of that, the thing finally died, when Evan had stuffed his sword through it's eye, and fired into it's head until it collapsed.

Now that he thought about it, that last thing implied that Evan had put a gun on his sword.

Chester sighed. The only thing that would make a weapon even more "Evanier" would be to stick a gun on it...even if it was a melee weapon. Because that just made perfect sense to the Child berserker.

The Ogre let out a deafening roar, and charged down the glassy dune, it's horde following behind it.

Chester suddenly found himself wishing for Evan's floating cabinet again.

Still, Chester went to work, raising the Undertaker, and aiming into the rapidly encroaching horde of imps.

He indiscriminately fired into the advancing mass until he had spots in his vision from all the Undertaker's ghostly muzzle flashes.

Packed together as they were, the imps died by the tens, scattering grist all over the dune. Soon, most of the imps lay in ashes, and the few survivors, finding the anger of the goblins preferable to disintegration via black-majjyk gun, fled from the field of battle.

The imps' death, however, bought the goblins enough time to close into melee range.

As they closed, the goblins demonstrated their intelligence, by running serpentine, and _not_ straight into Chester's shots.

This, combined with their armor, which could survive a direct hit, _significantly_ reduced Chester's lethality. By the time the fifteen goblins got too close for Chester to fire the Undertaker without hitting his companions, only three of their number had fallen.

As they closed, Chester begun to back-pedal, wishing that he'd had the foresight to prototype a bayonet for the Undertaker.

When the goblins got within a few meters, eight of them made a beeline straight for him. Acting on impulse, Chester risked a shot of the Undertaker. The ghostly bolt hit a goblin in it's unarmored arm, and blasted it into grist.

As the rest got closer, he prepared to make a pointless and futile last stand in close-quarters, when suddenly, Boreall, with a cry of,

 _ **"**_ _ **Behuld deh wrarth of uh SpEESS RANGER!"**_

Charged into the closely packed goblin ranks, and scattered them like bowling pins. Dimly, Chester wondered just how Boreall, with his seemingly incorporeal and light-weight form, was able to create enough of a kinetic impact to just, toss enemies around as if they were toys.

A goblin lunged at him from the side, and Chester was knocked out of his complex scientific thoughts. Chester was knocked to the ground, and the goblin fell upon him. The two began to grapple, with the goblin trying to claw out his throat, and Chester trying to _not_ get his throat ripped out, when they both realized that Chester was still holding the Undertaker, and it was nestled between the two of them.

Quickly, he pushed the gun upwards, into the goblin's chin, and fired.

The first thing Chester noticed, when the smoke cleared, was that he could no longer see. His ears were ringing, and his vision was spotty. The overwhelming feeling of dread and existential horror that he had upon fist prototyping the Undertaker was also back.

Rising slowly to his feet, blinking the spots from his vision, Chester concluded that firing the Undertaker, right in front of his face, was not an advisable idea. On top of that, he was wearing his helmet, and he felt awful. He shuddered to imagine the effects on someone _without_ a helmet.

Judging from the grist around him, he figured that it would be safe to assume the goblin's death.

Picking up the Undertaker from where it fell, Chester looked around.

It seemed that, _somehow_ , most of the goblins were slain by Harold and Boreall. At this point, Chester was too tired to complain about or care how they did it.

Seeing the last two goblins harassing Harold, Chester dispatched them with two very carefully placed shots. After all, it wouldn't do to hit the squid by accident. Still, if the facial expression Harold gave him was any indication, standing _near_ the Undertaker's bolts, was nearly as bad as getting hit by them.

Chester grinned sheepishly.

Harold used his tentacles to (somehow) recreate a (very rude) human gesture.

Boreall triumphantly shouted, _**"**_ _ **HUZZAH!"**_

As Chester looked around the battlefield, he felt like he was missing something. A few seconds later, that something hit him through a sand-dune.

Shakily standing up, thanking the stars for the police vest he prototyped, Chester shook off the glass dust from his clothes, and saw the colossal Ogre from earlier.

It stared at him, (Or, at least that's what Chester assumed. It _was_ wearing a helmet after all.), then at Harold, then Boreall, seemingly unable to decide who to focus on. After a few heart-beats of stunned silence, it gave an ear-ringing roar, and leapt into a charge on Chester.

Chester blasted it with the undertaker as many times as he could pull the trigger, but, aside from pained roars, it failed to break it's charge.

Just as it was almost upon him, the ground trembling with its steps, Chester had a sudden moment of realization that perhaps, standing still, right in it's path, was not a good idea.

As he tried to squeeze off a final, futile shot, Chester felt something slam into his side.

Sprawling in the dust, he dimly felt the Ogre rush past.

For a few milliseconds, Chester was unable to comprehend what just happened. Glancing over, he saw the Ogre look down and grunt in confusion. Huh, he was right in it's path. But... if he wasn't hit... then, 'something must have pulled me out,' he realized. A groan emanated from beside him. Looking over, he saw Boreall, slumped beside him.

Realizing what happened, Chester was about to thank him, when he heard a roar of anger from the Ogre, which had finally realized it hadn't hit him.

 _ **"**_ _ **Thunk meh latuhr,"**_ the sprite yowled, in fear,

Getting up and floating back to Harold as fast as possible, Boreall shouted in a very...lady-like tone, _**"**_ _ **Dis Spess Ranger theinks Eet's tiem fur uh tacticul retreet!"**_

"noooooooooooooo." Harold grumbled. "wwwweeeeeee haaaaveeeee ssssseeeeennnn wwwwooorrrrrrrssssseeeee.", he continued, raising tentacles into attack position,

 _ **"**_ _ **Uhr yuh Ensaine, Huve yuh seen dat ting!?"**_ Boreall shouted in terror, coming to a stop beside the squid.

Harold slapped the sprite.

Boreall still looked nervous,

Harold slapped him again.

"Beeeteeeer?" the squid asked,

 _ **"**_ _ **Buttuhr"**_ the sprite replied, taking an...unusual fighting position, splaying his arms out like a ballerina,

Meanwhile, Chester grabbed the Undertaker, and half ran, half rolled through the dune, and towards the two. The Ogre, at this point, had finally found them again, (perhaps, Chester wondered, it's helmet might be distorting it's vision. It seems awfully clumsy), roaring a challenge, that made Boreall shiver _only a little_ , it charged at them again.

Once again, Chester shot the hell out of it as it went at them, but this time, he remembered to get the hell out of it's way before it hit him.

Getting up from where he rolled, Chester saw that Boreall and Harold had similar ideas, and were both on the other side of the Ogre's charge when it hit.

Glancing towards the Ogre, he saw that the force of it's charge had carried straight into a dune, which it was currently stuck in, up to it's shoulders. Taking the opportunity, Chester began to blast it's backside, eliciting more pained growls, but little else.

Boreall even ran in, and punched it in the butt, before trying to spit on it, but realizing that sprites can't spit. The ogre roared again, from within it's glassy prison, shaking the entire dune, and with a yelp, Boreall scampered back to safety.

With a mighty heave, the Ogre pulled itself from the dune, showering the trio with glass dust.

It reoriented itself, still under fire from Chester, spotted him, roared, and Charged again.

Once again, the group got out of it's way, once again, it smacked into a dune.

This process repeated itself a few times, thanks mainly to the Ogre's small brain. Not even once did it even attempt to change it's strategy. Chester was _very_ disappointed.

Eventually, his constant fire on it's head, which it was _ever so courteous_ to present to him every single time it charged, flat-out melted it's helmet, and one final shot (that was buried somewhere in the flurries of bolts Chester was flinging at it) blasted it into grist.

 _ **"**_ _ **HUZZAH! Victurhy gohes tuh deh virtuouhs!"**_ Boreall cheered

"Yayyy" Harold unenthusiastically cheered. The sheer snark and condescension in the squid's voice was practically corporeal.

Chester dropped the gun, panting.

The barrel was glowing a molten blue from the sheer volume of fire he had put out.

Taking his helmet off, Chester collapsed in the glassy sand, and greedily gasped down lungfuls of air, as Boreall and Harold looked on awkwardly. After taking a few minutes to compose himself, Chester put on his helmet, grabbed the Undertaker, and motioned for Harold to take the lead.

The slaughter of all the creatures, seemed to have warned off their brethren, because no further attacks were made on them for the rest of the trip. For about fifteen minutes, the three of them wandered in companionable silence, the only noise being the wind rustling through the glass.

Finally, Chester saw the tower on the horizon. Where as, from the house, these pillars looked kinda like featureless, white cylinders, from this close, Chester could see that it looked to be made from some sort of crystal, and it had many jagged, glassy struts coming out of various points in it's structure.

Soon, they stood at the foot of it, and Chester was impressed with it's size. It was nearly ten stories tall, and it's location in a flat part of the countryside made it seem vastly taller. What Chester initially took as crystal, proved to be anything but. While he couldn't tell what the hell it was, it was closer to crystal than glass, but that was where the similarities ended.

Looking into it, Chester could see an infinitely repeating pattern of precise geometric shapes, rotating around each-other. It reminded him of a kaleidoscope, which also meant that it hurt to look at, so after a longing, curious gaze, he finally tore himself away from it.

To his surprise, Harold and Boreall were floating there, waiting for him. Boreall awkwardly, Harold with a snide gleam in his eyes.

Chester just grunted at Harold.

After a few seconds of standing around, he realized that there was no visible entrance.

Turning to Harold, he asked,

"I probably should have asked at the house. But. Do you know how to get in?"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" Harold deadpanned.

Chester just stared at him, because, he knew Harold knew how to get in. But, damn, that squid's poker-face was just too good. Especially since he didn't really have a face by human standards.

They both looked each other dead in the eyes for a few more moments before Harold sighed, "Trrrrrryyyyyy theeeeeeeee crrrrryyyyssssstaaaallll buuuutoooonnn,"

Chester looked, and, sure enough, there was a chunk of crystal, at human eye level, that stuck out of the tower in an otherwise flat part of the structure.

Hesitantly approaching it, he put his hand on it. It felt warm. Hmmm.

Gently, he pushed it in. To his surprise, once he got it moving, it began to go in off it's own accord, gently scraping against the inside workings of the structure.

Chester stepped back as the button became flat, with the rest of the tower.

A gentle hiss escaped the structure, and he stepped back in shock as a chunk of the tower began to slowly grind inwards, before disappearing in the darkness of the tunnel it created. The grinding noise continued for a while, before it too, stopped.

Chester nervously raised the Undertaker into the darkness, before Harold briskly floated in front of him, lowered the gun with a tentacle (with visible pain and discomfort to himself) and reverently murmured,

"Yyyyoooouuuuuu wwwwwoooooont neeeeed thaaaaaat,"

Then, he began to tug on his sleeve, and Chester followed him into the cool darkness of the tunnel.

As they entered, Chester was beginning to fret about the lack of lights, and was mentally face-palming over his stupidity at not fusing a flashlight or two with his helmet. Just as he was about to stop and ask Harold about his plans for lighting, the tunnel grew brighter.

With a gentle 'hummm', little crystals, contained in small sconces in the walls, began to slowly light up, filling the tunnel with a soft blue glow.

Well. That took care of that.

After a minute of walking, during which Chester was growing more and more confounded with the internal layout of this place. They must have covered a kilometer already, and this tower had an only _marginally_ bigger diameter than his house. So, came the question, _how the hell were they still walking!_? Was it bigger on the inside, or some such rubbish?

As Chester was over-thinking the situation yet again, he completely failed to notice that they had stopped walking, and had entered a large, central chamber...

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that it was only when he walked into Harold, prompting a grunt of protest from the squid, that Chester looked up and saw the chamber.

The room was circular, and quite big, about five-hundred meters wide. The roof was very far up, all the way at the top of the building. A few sconces scattered across the circular room provided some faint light, but the lion's share of illumination came from an intricate skylight in the roof. While the walls, floor and ceiling were comprised of the same opaque crystal, the skylight was a large circle of blackened crystal, with six curved lines of silvery glass framed in it's center, arranged in a circular pattern around the middle of the black circle.

The center of the room was dominated by a gray, metal disk that lay on the floor. It was decorated with the same strange, intricate patterns that the Alchemeter and Cruxtruder possessed, and Chester held no doubts that this machine was yet another of those.

Taking a few steps into the room, Chester paused for a moment and heard his steps echoing off the walls, disturbing the crypt-like silence. Then, Harold started prodding him with his tentacles again, so Chester got the message, and moved on.

Walking over to the teleporter, he realized that he had no idea what to do with it.

Turning to Boreall, he was about to ask the sprite to take over and do stuff, but Boreall simply shrugged and muttered that he had no idea what to do with it.

Chester just glared at him. 'You traitor. I was counting on you to deal with this,' he thought. Harold was making amused chortling noises behind him.

"Oh. Shut up." Chester muttered.

He paced around the thing a few times, hesitant to touch it, and really not sure how to make it work, before, finally, Harold suggested,

"Yyyyoooouuuuu sssstaaaaand ooooooon iiiiiit toooooo mmmmmaaaaaakeeeee iiiiiiiit aaaactiiiiivaaaaaateeeee."

"Are you sure?" Chester asked, really not wanting to touch the teleporter.

"Trrrruuuusssst mmeeeeeee. Iiiiiiidiiiiiiioooot." Harold replied.

"Alright. Fine then" Chester swallowed nervously.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped on the teleporter.

…

Nothing happened. He was in the process of turning around to tell Harold that his suggestion was useless and stupid, when a white light blinded him.

…

"Ouch," Chester groaned.

Everything ached like he'd just ran a triathlon. He was lying on his side, in the center of the teleporter. His vision was pretty patchy, presumably from the bright light, and his ears were ringing. Opening his eyes, he dimly realized that he wasn't in the crystal chamber anymore.

As much as he wanted to get up and investigate, everything ached like hell, so, at the...very convincing argument his joints and muscles presented, he decided to give it a few minutes...

After close to ten minutes had passed, Chester slowly got up and shakily observed the room.

Unlike the crystal teleporter room, this place was, seemingly, a large metal box with no doors or windows. Artificial lights were mounted in the ceiling, and the whole room definitely had a lot less of a "mystical, grandiose" feel to it.

On one side of the room, lay a large bank of complicated machinery. There were three large monitors, plenty of keyboards and other "data input" stations, and, most curiously, three large, glass cylindrical tanks. The center of the room, was dominated by the teleporter that brought him here. Surrounding it, were six other similar looking metal platforms. Were they also teleporters, he wondered? Curiously, all of them bore strange symbols. Two both bore the strange circle of lines that matched the skylight in the other room, two others had a similar symbol, but the lines were inverted to point outwards, rather than inwards, and lastly, the two final symbols were really strange... they kinda resembled Chinese letters, more than anything else.

Looking around, Chester wondered just what the hell all this stuff was here for.

As he stared at the rows of equipment in deep thought, a name ran through his mind, _Ectobiology_.

Almost immediately, Chester jumped in shock. What the hell was that?!

Looking around, he confirmed that he was still alone, but... if no-one said anything, then what the heck was "Ectobiology" supposed to mean. He knew for a fact that he had never heard of such a thing before. With growing distress, Chester began to realize that, realistically, the only way for such a weird and random thought to appear in his head, was if...something, probably Sburb itself, planted the thought there.

Thinking back, he realized this wasn't the first time. Chester remembered having a similar... _uncomfortable_ experience when he first arrived on his planet. Then, he'd brushed it off, but now, here it was again. Such a thing happening twice, was definitely not a coincidence.

So, he concluded, 'Either I am growing insane...which isn't a _totally_ impossible statement, or, Sburb is actively messing with my head', either way, the situation was definitely screwed up.

Then, something else ran through his mind... it felt like...he was meant to be here... like, there was something he had to do...

With no real idea as-to what he was doing, he walked with purpose to the bank of equipment, and began to press buttons. What really was beginning to freak him out, was that while he had no idea what he was even doing, his body seemed to have no such problems, and was confidently pushing buttons seemingly at random.

It wasn't like he had no control over his body, … it was more like, he _felt_ like he should press a certain button, and, seeing no reason _not_ to do so, he did. After all, it wasn't like Sburb had steered him wrong...yet.

Placing his hand on a crank, he turned it exactly three full turns, and took a few steps back.

Then, one of the three monitors flickered to life. It showed a young man, well into his twenties, in a white T-shirt, and cargo pants, he was kinda disheveled and had excellent sideburns.

He was standing in a gas station, filling up a Winnebago, that Chester knew all too well. He faintly knew that this was Evan's dad, though he wasn't sure how he knew that.

After a few seconds, a red target appeared on the fellow, and (somehow) Chester knew that this meant he could continue. Thus, he went over to the keyboards, and pressed a few more sequences of keys.

This, led to one of the glass tanks producing a whirring noise, as if it was powering up, then, a... figure of green goo, (Paradox slime, those strange thoughts in his head helpfully added) that closely resembled Evan's Dad.

After several seconds, the goo statue collapsed into a puddle of goo, that was subsequently pumped out of the tank, and into a separate glass container.

At this point, Chester had completely given up on making sense out of what the hell was going on, so he decided to just roll with whatever the feelings in his head told him to do. (Also, he wasn't crazy. Totally not)

Then, prompted by the feelings, he went back to the console, and began to tap more buttons. Turning a different crank, caused the first monitor to go blank, while another monitor turned on.

This one, showed a middle-aged fellow with glasses, standing in-front of a building of some sort. Chester felt like he recognized this man, but just couldn't put his finger on where he'd seen him earlier.

The camera panned out, to show the sign displayed upon the building's front.

DUNWICH INVESTMENTS

'Of course!' Chester mental face-palmed. This was supposed to be his grandpa. He now remembered where he saw him, it was from a picture of his Grandpa at this exact age, in one of the family albums. Dunwich Investments, was the name of his Grandpa's company.

Already anticipating what would come next, Chester wasn't particularly surprised to see a red targeting reticule appear and focus on his grandpa.

Though he may have figured out some of this mysterious process, Chester still didn't know which buttons to press, so, he let the mysterious feelings guide him.

Pressing a few more buttons, created a gooey figure of his Grandpa to appear in a second glass tank. Following the process he had done earlier, Chester had soon pumped that goo into another holding tank.

Repeating the process for what he assumed would be the last time, (Judging by the _three_ glass tanks) caused the second monitor to shut off, and the third monitor, to activate.

This one showed a...shifty looking fellow in cargo shorts and a gray hoodie, standing in the woods, overlooking an... illegal weed growery...apparently.

By process of illumination, Chester had inferred that this must be Chris's mysterious brother. Since he had never seen Chris's mysterious sibling before, Chester was surprised to see that there was a very distinct family resemblance between the junior kleptomaniac and his...drug-growing brother.

Having grown bored with the goo figure song and dance, Chester quickly pressed whatever buttons his instincts told him to, conjured the target sign, made a weird goo figure appear, and pumped it into the last holding tank.

Taking a few steps back, Chester admired his work, and began wondering just what the hell he was doing. The weird feelings and thoughts that kept going through his head, seemed quite adamant that he finish this, (whatever this was, anyway) and that he should not leave the chamber until it was done.

Standing still for a few moments, Chester waited for further instructions...

When no new "foreign thoughts" came through his mind, he mental shouted 'Now what?!'.

After a few moments, he once again, knew what to do.

Going over to the console, he pressed a large, red, central button.

The goo in the containers began to be pumped out, but before Chester could look closer, a white flash engulfed his vision.

Blinking the spots out of his eyes, Chester noticed that something about the room was... not quite the same.

Namely, the six infants sitting on the six platforms.

For almost a full minute, Chester just kinda stared at them. His brain was completely broken right then, and was trying to re-boot. After he regained control of his verbal faculties, his first words were,

"What...the...hell?!"

After his initial shock had worn off, he just observed the infants.

The first thing he noticed was, that just like there were three sets of two pads that shared the same symbol, there were three groups of two babies that looked quite similar.

Then, he noticed something...quite odd. One looked like himself as a child. This, he knew from his various baby pictures. That one was seated on one of the mini-teleporter pads, as he'd called them. The specific symbol on that pad, was one of the two circular shapes, with the _inward_ facing lines. The strange doppelganger baby of his was seated on the other matching pad.

Another, he immediately noticed, looked like Chris. Chester could tell because Chris already had...youthful features, and looked several years younger than he currently was, and this baby, looked just like Chester imagined a baby version of Chris. Not that he'd _ever_ wondered what Chris looked like as a baby, just, _if_ he ever bothered to imagined that, this is what would come to mind. The Chris baby, was sitting on one of the pads that had a symbol that was a circle with _outward_ facing lines. The Chris lookalike baby, was, again, sitting on the matching pad.

Out of the two that remained Chester couldn't tell which was Evan. This was largely due to the fact that Chester had no idea what Evan looked like as a child, nor did he even have a particularly good idea of what Evan looked like _right now_ , what with his constant "No showing" to the various Skype chats and such.

Then, he noticed one of the "Evan babies" crawl over to the one he had identified as "The Chris baby", and slap it upside the head.

The Chris baby began to bawl, and the Evan baby began to giggle.

'Okay.' Chester decided. That one was, without doubt, Evan.

The Evan babies, he noted, were sitting on the platforms with the strange symbol.

So, that left the question of what the heck the other three doppelgangers were supposed to be. As Chester pondered this, coming up with no satisfactory theories, he noticed that all the monitors were now displaying a timer.

What it said, made his blood freeze.

RECKONING: 00:00:00:00:00:00:00:00:01:00

There was a minute left, and it was counting down.

One of the main things that Chester got out of Harold's speech a while back, was that the RECKONING, was an event when the Black King would start the meteor shower, that would, eventually, destroy the Earth, and after that, Skaia.

Chester had interpreted the rest of Harold's speech as: They had one day to stop the Black King _before_ the reckoning, now, it seemed that what Harold _actually_ meant was that they had one day to stop the Black King _before the reckoning got bad enough_ to destroy the Earth and Skaia.

Then, in the middle of his panic attack, the calm, guiding, thoughts returned.

Chester knew what to do.

He ran over, and grabbed Evan Baby, who squealed in protest and bit him.

Fortunately, Chester was wearing thick, padded gloves, so he didn't get hurt. But, he still muttered,

"Asshat,"

Then, he ran and plonked down Evan on the platform the baby once occupied.

Sneaking a glance at the timer, he noticed that he had twenty five seconds left. Following what the thoughts told him to do, he hurried over to the central teleporter, and stood on it.

It didn't activate, but from what he now _knew_ , that would change in...about ten seconds.

As the timer hit two seconds, he saw the children vanish in six, separate flashes of light. Two black, two navy-blue, and two purple.

The timer hit one second.

He vanished.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Boreall and Harold were playing a card game (the sprite had produced from...somewhere...) as they waited for Chester to return.

A sudden flash of light brought their attention back to the teleporter, where Chester's prone form now lay. Boreall was about to float over to check his health, when he saw Chester lift his head, and groan,

"What. The. Heck. Just Happened?"

Before promptly collapsing into unconsciousness.

 **A/N: So. Some things I want to mention, real quick. Scattered throughought various chapters are assorted hints to the various kid's aspects. Also, I plan to have this initial story arc wrapped up fairly soon. Only a few more chapters before the Black King! #GETHYPE**


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hey guys, I got a short one this time.**

 **Other than that, not too many more news. As always, I own nothing, save the OC's, and...yeah, hope you enjoy.**

Upon a world of Smog and Gaslight, beneath the ashen clouds, on a lonely, unmarked cobbled street, a young boy lay twitching, in a state of pure agony.

Dimly, Chris wondered when things had gone wrong. Thinking, or, even _anything_ was rather...difficult to do, as he felt like he'd been doused in gasoline, set on fire, then doused in gasoline again.

Through blurred eyes, Chris saw the gaunt, skeletal figure with those haunting, ethereal blue eyes suddenly loom into view above him. As it raised it's staff, and began gathering another shot of energy to blast him away, Chris hazily thought back to about a minute ago, and _why_ he was now about to die.

It had started so well, he reflected. The first shot it launched, he rolled under, the second, more hasty shot, had missed as well, and Chris had closed the distance into the skeleton' firing range before it could fire thrice. For now at least, he figured, he was too close for it to risk shooting again.

The imps, scattered around the street, held their ground, instinctively knowing that this was a fight they were not to infringe on.

Thanking his luck at the imps' absence, Chris leapt into combat. Wasting no time, he began to hack away at it, his childish glee once again asserting itself as he reminded himself that this was just a game, and that these things weren't real, anyway.

It proved to be far less formidable in melee than at range, and despite it's feeble attempts to block or parry his avalanche of cuts and thrusts with it's staff, Chris soon had it injured, and on the ground.

Despite his lack of formal (or informal. Or any other sort, for that matter) training with a real sword, and the fact that he'd only picked up his sword _for the first time_ , about half an hour ago, Chris's many hours of imagining what it would be like _fighting_ with a sword, and his many, many "sparring sessions" in his room, against an _imaginary_ opponent, with an _imaginary_ sword, had honed his skill to a... passable degree.

His flurry of blows, though wild, sloppy and overreaching, had managed to successfully overwhelm and stagger his opponent. Then, came his final blow.

The broadsword went straight at the skeleton's torso in a horizontal cut. The blackened staff it wielded barely managed to move in time to deflect the blow downwards.

But that was all as planned.

The sword's new position, at Chris's waist, was perfect for the next step.

Like an uncurling spring, the blade leapt straight forward, passing underneath the staff, and on a direct path towards his foe's chest.

Then, it stopped.

Chris wasn't sure why, but when he looked into the soulless, blue pits of the skeleton creature's eyes, he felt, ...something from it. Like, a flicker of fear? Thinking about it now, he could see that, even all of these strange enemies, created by Sburb for the players to slaughter in droves, felt fear, or, at the very least, did not wish to cease existing.

At the time, though, for whatever reason, his blade hesitated.

Looking back, he had no idea what the heck he was thinking would come next, _even if_ he spared it's life. Perhaps, the skeleton, _the mindless enemy created to fight him_ , would just get up and give him a hug, they'd go out together for ice-cream, and everything would be happily ever after.

As he stood there, for what felt like forever, just staring into its eyes, no hostile actions coming from it, Chris hesitantly entertained the thought that, maybe, things _would_ be okay.

Then, the staff it held. The one that, in his "clever" attempt to get behind it's guard and quickly end the fight, he had forgotten while closing the distance. The one that he'd unwittingly moved so close to, that it was nearly touching his armor. The one that had been charging a bolt of energy the entire time.

At almost point blank range. It fired.

And now, here he lay, Chris thought grimly, the one that showed mercy and compassion to a bested foe.

Of course, he knew what his friends would have done, if given the choice. Evan would _never_ have been so foolish as to leave an enemy alive. Heck, the kid would have likely went right through the skeleton wizard, in less than a second, and then kept going, tearing apart even more foes. In fact, Chris thought, Evan had likely never even _entertained_ the _concept_ of mercy, in his entire life. To Evan, an enemy was an enemy. And enemies must be killed as soon as possible. Plain and simple. Chris...wasn't sure he agreed with that, though.

As for Chester, well, for as much as Chris knew that his nerdy friend wasn't much of a fighter, he also knew that Chester _never_ acted without thinking (Or, realistically, over-thinking the problem, and making it even worse), and thus, would never have even _gotten into_ such a situation in the first place. Remembering Chester's actions in the various multiplayer games the three of them had played, Chris felt fairly confident that his friend's main response to a street full of enemies, would have just been to shoot them all. From as far away as possible. 'And I just ran in, like a glory-hungry fool' thought Chris dejectedly, 'And for what? Proving that I'm as good and heroic as my Light-Souls character?'

His melancholy train of thought would have continued, right until the skeleton had blasted him to ashes, except that the charging of it's staff, drew his attention back into the present.

Suddenly, as he lay there, contemplating all of his mistakes and insecurities, he was filled with anger at the injustice of it all.

The three of them were friends and partners. Chester had said so, many times. So why did he always feel so...left out of all the plans and decisions?

Deep down, he felt he knew why. 'I'm just so immature. Maybe that's why Evan gets so fed up with me, he thinks I'm just a little kid,'. 'Maybe he's right,' Chris sadly thought, 'After all, I can't even defeat a single enemy,'.

His will hardened. 'I'llshow them!' He resolved, adrenaline flooding his veins, numbing the agony of his seared body, 'I'llshow them,that I _can_ fightandwin by myself!'

' TODIE HERE!' He mentally proclaimed.

As the skeleton stepped closer, likely out of a mechanical desire to avoid any possibility of missing, rather than out of any spite or cruelty, Chris's fingers tightened about the hilt of the blade that lay in his hands, and sharply lunged upwards, ignoring the pain that assailed him, and plunging the blade through the creature's blackened skull.

His arms burning from the effort, Chris let go of the sword, and fell back with a pained moan. A shower of grist soon joined him on the ground.

Vaguely, he heard shrieks of surprise and dismay from the surrounding imps.

Chris desperately hoped they'd go away, he had no means of stopping them now, should they wish him harm.

A second passed.

Then, a few more. As the pain in his body began to slowly recede, and Chris regained some form of control of his mental facilities, he realized that, since no imp had killed him yet, the small creatures must have scampered away in fear.

Beneath his helmet, he let a pained smile form. It seemed that his bluff had worked.

After a few more moments of lying on the ground, gathering what remained of his strength, Chris finally got to the point where he felt reasonably comfortable with risking an attempt to get up. After all, the imps, or something even worse, could be back any second.

Very slowly, with careful, deliberate movements, Chris began to slowly raise himself into a seated position. It hurt, but less than before.

After finally succeeding in sitting up, he began to survey himself for the injuries that the skeleton's attacks had inevitably inflicted.

To his surprise, aside from a blackened mark in the center of his chestplate, where the blast had hit, there was no visible damage anywhere else on his body. Had he the time, Chris would have likely attempted to lift his greaves and sleeves to check his arms, or perhaps to try to look beneath his chestplate, for any signs of the seemingly phantom pain that was plaguing him. However, he was still in hostile territory, and waves of imps, or worse yet, more of the nightmarish skeleton wizards, could be right around the corner. Chris decided to put the "injury examination" on hold. After all, it would be...not pleasant to be caught with his pants down by his enemies.

Glancing around, he noticed his sword, laying in the middle of the street, a short distance away. Realizing he couldn't reach that far, Chris hesitantly, took a deep breath, winced at the pain he anticipated would come, and began trying to stand up.

This was easier said than done.

Though his body hurt less than when he was first hit, everything still burned and felt raw. Shakily trying to stand, was...not quite agony, but close.

Gritting his teeth, he bore through it, and, gradually, rose to his full height.

Chris would have jumped for joy at his triumph...if every part of him didn't feel like it was boiled alive. He decided to settle for a small, brief, pained smile.

Taking a few deep breaths, he took a shambling step towards the sword, arms waving erratically for balance.

Two more pained steps saw him standing over the sword. He gingerly reached down, clasped his fingers over the hilt, and very gently raised himself back up.

Planting the sword's tip into the ground, Chris took a moment to rest. Beneath his visor, he was grinning like he'd just won a marathon. Some, (Mainly Chester), would find the concept of happiness after near death, particularly while the subject was in pain to be strange, but like Chris (And most certainly Evan) now knew, after a brush with death, the simplest acts of living felt incredible.

Well... that, and mostly the fact that Chris felt especially proud of himself for defeating the skeleton, _by himself_ , and then powering through his pain to do a bunch of stuff. 'Honestly' he thought, 'I'm like, a supercool veteran now'. Excitedly, he wondered if Evan would think better of him now.

Speaking of Evan, Chris noticed his laptop buzzing within the _**False-Bottom**_ modus. Uncaptchaloging it, he unfolded the device, and saw that Evan was trying to contact him. Giddily, he began thinking how to best explain his valiant, and heroic endeavors to Evan, while at the same time beginning to type out a response.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Chris, are you there?

IC: Yes. Doyou wanna hearabout myawesome adventures? :)

EE: …

EE: Not really,

IC: pleeeeeeaaasse? Theyresuper exciting

EE: Alright, just...later, ok?

EE: I need your help with something right now.

IC: Idon't know, iwanna gofirst...

EE: (Sigh)

EE: It's a super special ultra _top-secret_ project...

EE: I just don't know if you have what it takes to help me...

IC: Ihavewhatit takes!

EE: Are you sure, Chris?

EE: Are you really sure?

EE: Do you think you're a (Oh my god, am I really saying this) _radical_ enough _dude_ (sigh) to help me with this project?

IC: Ima raddude!

IC: Ikilled a wholeskeleton bymyself!

IC: Ican doit!

IC: Pickme!

IC: Pickme!

EE: Alright Chris,

EE: After much deliberation, I have decided to let you contribute to my project.

IC: YAY! Thisis thegreatest dayof my life! :D

EE: But it's top-secret. You can't tell Chester, its a surprise, you see.

EE: So, this is what I need you to do, so pay attention,

EE: First, you need to go to sburb, and move the camera into the bunker.

EE: Open up the "Deploy" menu, and select "Building materials"

EE: In that tab, select "Aluminum" as the material to be used.

EE: Then, just click and drag the cursor to create...about a twelve foot, by... about ten foot rectangle of aluminum.

EE: Are you paying attention?

IC: Yes!

IC: youwant a 12x10 blockof aluminum

EE: Yes, although, maybe you should also make it fairly thin, like, a few inches tall, at most.

IC: Okay! Gotit. Anythingelse?

EE: Not especially, just leave it in the center of the bunker, ill deal with it soon.

IC: Okiedokie!...say, canwe talkabout menow?

EE: ...you know what? Sure, lay it on me. How's it going in your neck of the woods?

IC: Well, igot myarmor setup, andthenI wentto goand fightthe enemies onmyplanet

IC:andthen Imeta reallyfrail andscaryskeleton monster,

IC:andI tried tosneak pasthim,

IC:buthe sawme,

IC:so wefought,

IC: andthere werelazers everywhere

IC and then...hehitmewith a lazer, andeverythinghurt, andIthought iwasgoingtodie and iwassuper scared,

IC:BUTTHEN!

IC: I wasall like, Iwill notdie here!

IC: andI grabbedmy swordand stabbedhim

IC: Itwas socool!

EE: Well then, that was...something

IC: Whatdo youthink?

IC: Awesomeor what?

EE: Well, I...guess...er...that was pretty good Chris, nice work.

EE: …

EE: So, can we get started on the whole, aluminum thing, or what?

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Chris sat perfectly still, lest he ruin the perfectness of this moment, which he was trying to commit every second of to memory.

Evan. Had congratulated him.

He happily sighed, it was better than he had ever dared imagine.

Even though he knew that he should get off his ass and actually do the thing that Evan wanted, Chris just wanted to savor the moment for a little longer.

Further impatient buzzing from the laptop prompted him to actually get on with it.

"GeezEvan, Im onit, imon it." he muttered as he opened Sburb.

When the game opened, he saw that the invisible camera...thing was currently inside the bunker. Everything still looked fairly normal, except that now, a corner of the bunker was covered with a white tarp that was suspended from the ceiling. This, he assumed, was the "project" that Evan was working on.

It kinda reminded him of hospital surgery rooms, like on the various soap-operas that Evan tried to get him to watch.

Various tools and equipment were scattered around, and Chris could tell that most of them were likely Evan's, though, there were some really old looking sets of power equipment, that he guessed Evan must have found somewhere inside the building.

Curious, he tried for almost two minutes to move the camera to peep under the curtain, but it's location in a corner, coupled with extremely touchy and awkward controls, led to him giving up after the fifth attempt.

He then sat there, for a few moments, before remembering just what Evan had wanted from him.

Quietly murmuring "Doh! Right,sillyme,thesteel plate."

Chris fumbled with the little menus and controls for a bit, before just minimizing Sburb, and re-reading Evan's instructions.

Following the instructions, Chris finally was able to select the desired material, and clicked and dragged it into position, in the center of the room.

Then, Evan peeked out from the curtain, and, seeing the desired metal, walked over to it, absentmindedly lowering the curtain behind him. Chris, for all his intent, was unable to see inside the curtain in the brief moments it was open.

Evan walked over to the plate, grabbed one end, and began dragging it towards his workspace, when suddenly, he dropped it, and bent down to closer inspect it.

Chris continued watching as Evan, seemingly finished with his investigation, walked over to a crate where his computer was sitting, and began to type something on it.

Soon after, Chris's pesterchum beeped.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Hey Chris, remember two minutes ago, when I asked you to give me an aluminum plate?

IC: Errr...yes?

IC: Isthis atrick question?

EE: Well, you see, there's a problem

IC: OHNO, REALLY?WHAT'S WRONG!?

EE: Well, you gave me a _**steel**_ plate.

EE: Honestly Chris, I typed, like, three sentences, at most, Was that really beyond your ability to remember?

IC: OhgoshI'msosorry letmefix it

EE: ...Okay, fine.

EE: Just, delete the steel one first, though, We may need the grist, later.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Chris felt like he wanted to disappear forever.

Evan had just congratulated him on his awesome combat skills and entrusted him with a secret task, and what did Chris do? He completely failed and ruined it.

He started to hyperventilate, what if Evan didn't notice the wrong metal in time? What if he used the steel plate in his project? What if the steel plate ruined the whole project?

Evan probably hated him now. Everything was so terrible.

Chris took a deep breath.

Then, another.

He tried to remember what Chester had told him about freaking out like this.

'Thisis onlytemporary' he chanted in his mind,

'Ijust needtothink clearly'

'Evandosen't actuallyhate me. He'sprobably justmildly annoyed,' Chris tried to reason with himself.

Chris had these strange...well, Chester called them panic attacks, and didn't think very much of them, but, nonetheless, they happened...well...often. Chris really hated them. They always made him think all kinds of horrible things.

Taking more deep breaths, and thinking of calming things...like Light Souls...he felt the cold, tense feeling that gripped him abate.

With his mind clearer, he went back to work.

With a few precise mouse-clicks, he deleted the steel plate, and in it's place, soon sat an aluminum plate.

Evan took a second to examine it, before giving a thumbs up to the invisible camera he knew was in the room with him. Behind the screen, Chris did a mini-victory dance at the successful mission.

Or, rather, he would have, if rapidly shaking his arms didn't cause the pain from his earlier injuries to come back.

Seeing Evan busy with dragging the plate behind the curtain, Chris typed out a quick message on pesterchum, outlying his plans to go back to the apartment, and to crash there for a while, before captchaloguing his laptop. Slowly, Chris shuffled to his feet, and, keeping to the shadows at the edges of the street, began to make his way home.

Whenever he came across imps or other, worse things, Chris just froze, and let them move past.

Nothing noticed him.

Soon, the solitary tower that was the apartment lay in view.

Chris was too dejected and tired for any of his usual and clever theatrics, so he just slowly climbed up the side of the building, until he could let himself in through his apartment's front door.

Entering the dark house, he quietly groaned. About halfway through the walk home, the burning pain in his limbs had gone. In it's place, came a droning, empty, tiredness. At this point, he could barely keep his eyes open.

Sullenly, the young lad shuffled down the hall, intending to take a power-nap in his room. It was taking so long though, he mused. It felt like he'd been walking for ages. His room wasn't _that_ far away...was it?

Dimly looking around, he noted that he'd only took a few steps inside.

Huh.

He kept walking.

After what felt like hours had passed, he walked by the couch. Glancing at it, the tired part of his brain made a pretty valid point... the couch _was_ a good substitute for a bed... it was _also_ a hell of a lot closer.

All further arguments were put on hold as he collapsed onto it.

Sleepily, he wondered where his brother, the couch's previous occupant had gone...

His mind was sluggishly trying to process that, as sleep slowly overtook him...

Some time later, Chris clumsily stumbled off the couch, shaking the last remnants of sleep from his mind. Looking around the hall, the last vestiges of sleep just beginning to leave his mind, Chris dimly wondered just how long he was out. As he was looking for the apartment clock that never existed in the first place, he was distracted by vibrations from something in his modus.

Pulling out his inventory, he discovered that his computer was buzzing from inside his fetch-modus.

Uncaptchaloging his laptop, he opened pesterchum to find a message from Evan.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: The project is done.

EE: You did well, so I have a surprise.

EE: Look out the window.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Even though the message was quite old, Chris felt extremely excited for the surprise. He was already brainstorming hundreds of possible ideas.

...

Cake. His mind decisively concluded that the surprise was cake. Or a mech suit. One of the two, anyway. Although, he was mildly confused as-to how Evan could make a surprise cake on his planet, when Evan was still stuck on his planet.

But then again, 'who cares about explanations and logic', he scoffed. There was cake waiting for him...

Rushing up to the hall window eagerly, Chris noticed the pain in his body was completely gone now. The sleep was definitely needed, he concluded.

He approached the window, happily peered over, and …. nothing.

There was nothing outside.

Disappointed, he messaged Evan, to make his disappointment with him universally known.

- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

IC: Evan. :(

IC: Thesuiprise isnthere.

EE: What? That's not right.

EE: I'm here

EE: Oh shit. Disregard that...

EE: I mean, the surprise is still there...

IC: WellIm looking outthe window,Ican'tsee anycake... : **/**

EE: Cake?

EE: You know what, I'm not even going to ask.

EE: The suirprise is there, though.

IC: Areyou sure? MaybeIcan't seeit

EE: No, if you're looking out the window, you can't miss it.

IC: Hmmm...

IC: OhIGOTIT!

EE: What?

IC: Imayhavethe wrongwindow.

EE: Yeah, that's probably it.

IC: Kay, gimmieasec,I'll lookaround.

\- **incoporealCriticist [IC]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Encouraged by the possibility of still receiving his cake, Chris felt his spirits lift once more, as he ran through the house, peeking through each window he came across. Each time, to his growing despair, there was nothing.

At this point, he was growing annoyed, and beginning to wonder if Evan wasn't just pulling his leg. Still though, he reasoned, trying to keep his spirits up, there was one window left. He'd go and check it, and then he'd know, _for sure_ , whether Evan was just messing with him about the cake.

He felt pretty sad, though. Chris really wanted his cake. He got his spirits all excited and stuff, and now, it was starting to look like he may not get his cake after all.

His brain was already beginning to come up with all sorts of silly over-reactions. What if, he considered, Evan was mad at him for the steel plate thing, and decided to change his mind about the cake. What if, Chris pondered with utter horror...there never was any cake?

Still, he reasoned, there was just the one window, so he'd soon see for himself, one way, or another.

Reaching the window, heart in his throat, Chris hesitantly peeked out.

Hmmm, … it didn't seem like there was anything there.

Disappointed, Chris began to turn away, but then, a strange noise caught his attention...

Straining his ears, he tried to make out the sound.

It sounded like... a car horn?

Eyes widening in surprise, Chris wandered back over to the window, bewildered and thoroughly confused. When he looked out, what he saw completely took his breath away...

 **A/N: So, Evan has a...suspicious "Project", ... interesting...**

 **In other news, thanks for reading, rate and review, and have a good day. Or night. Or whatever.**


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: Salutations to all of you lovely individuals! So, sorry for the late update, various factors (work) (friends), have taken up more of my time than I had anticipated, but, anyway, its here now.**

 **As always, I own nothing save the OC's, all praise our lord and saviour Andrew Hussie, please review and favorite.**

 **Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy. :)**

Upon a land of Glass and Pillars, within the bowels of a crystal spire, Chester was trying (and failing) to make sense of what the hell had just happened a short while earlier.

"Gooooo ooooooveeeeerrrrrr iiiiiiiiit aaaaaaaagaaaaaiiiiiin," Harold asked, in what was perhaps the most confused voice Chester had ever heard from the old squid.

"Well. Ok then. Right." Chester said, gesturing, "I was teleported by the pad. To...wherever the hell the room on the other end is. Anyway. In the other room, were various computers, monitors, some large glass tubes, and six smaller teleporter pads." He looked at Harold for confirmation,

"Ccccccccooooontiiiiiiinuuuuuuueeeee."

"At first. I had no idea what was going on. But soon I just started pressing buttons and doing things... and I...don't really know why. It just...kinda felt like something I was supposed to do. So I just went along with it. I don't have a clue how I knew how to do any of that stuff though," he continued.

Now that he was out of the strange room, and (hopefully) free from any _further_ violations of his mind, Chester was beginning to realize just how unnatural the things that happened with his head back there were. He felt completely unnerved and just... wrong. His hands were still slightly twitching, even after leaving the room. Despite the fact that he was in no pain after the...experience, and he couldn't notice any possible side-effects (Negative, or otherwise) from the strange, (telepathic?) mind...assistance? , Chester still felt...just.. _wrong_. On top of that, for what was likely the first time ever, he felt … downright unsafe, inside his own body.

Noticing that he had spaced out (Again), he coughed awkwardly, and continued with his explanation. (At this point though, he wasn't even sure if he was explaining things to Harold, or to himself.) Harold, tacitly avoided commenting on Chester's blanking out.

"Well...yeah. I felt like I had to push certain buttons. So I pressed some. And one of the monitors lit up. It had some guy on it, who I assumed was Evan's dad."

Harold interrupted, and grumbled, "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII knoooooooowwwwwwww aaaaallllll thaaaaaaat,"

"EEEEEExxxxxplllllllaaaaaiiiin wwwwwwwhaaaat hhhhaaaaapeeeeeeneeed wwwwiiiiith theeeeeee huuuuumaaaaaan chiiiiiiilllllldreeeeen,"

Taking a deep breath, and trying to compose himself, Chester answered,

"So. Like I said earlier. There were the six babies. And...I... _knew_ what to do with them. So as the Reckoning counter approached "Zero". I put the babies on teleporters. And... I'm _fairly_ certain that just before the Reckoning occurred, the kids were sent elsewhere."

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIndeeeeeeeeeeeeeed." The squid thoughtfully concluded.

Chester stared at Harold for a few seconds, before stammering,

"Well?"

"WWWWhaaat?"

"Did you figure it out?" the boy incredulously grumbled,

"YYYYeeeeessssss. Theeeeee huuuummmmaaaaan oooooffffffssssspriiiiing haaaaaveeeee beeeeeeen teeeeelllleeeeepooooorrrrrteeeeeed ssssssoooooomeeeewwwwwwheeeerrrreeee eeeeeellllllssssseee." Harold explained.

Chester just stood there for a few seconds, before exasperatedly shouting,

"WHAT!? That's the one thing I did know! What about all the other stuff?!"

"Wwwwwhaaaat aaaaaboooouuuut iiiiit?" Harold asked, confused.

"YYYYYooooouuuuu sssseeeeemmmm tooooooo knoooooowwww iiiiit wwweeellllllll eeeeeenooooouuuugh." the squid added, genuinely not understanding what Chester wanted from him,

Slowly, based on Harold's confusion, Chester realized the miscommunication, and, paused for a second to gather his jumbled and chaotic thoughts into a coherent and understandable statement, and continued,

"Alright. My problem was. I don't have any clue as-to what happened."

Before Harold could interrupt, Chester elaborated,

"Like, I know _what_ happened. I just don't know _why_. I am aware that there were ...strange goo-babies that looked like me and Evan and Chris. But...I don't understand why. Why was that whole room even a thing? Why was I basically mind-controlled into doing a bunch of stuff?" Chester was going to continue with his part freak-out, part explanation, when Harold interrupted him. Again.

"YYYYYYYYYYYYYoooooooouuuuuuuu knoooowwww, assssssss faaaaarrrrr aaaassss IIIIIIIII caaaaaan teeeellllllllllll, IIIIIIIIIIII doooooooon't thiiiiiiink iiiiit maaaaaateeeerrrrrrsssssss. Theeeeeeeee chiiiiillllllllldrrrrreeeeeeen wwwweeeeerrrreeeee prrrrreeeessssseeeeent, aaaaand theeeeennnnn theeeeeeyyyyy vaaaaaaaniiiiisssssheeeeeed. AAAAAlllllllllllll theeeeerrrrrrreeeeee iiiiiiisssssss tooooooo iiiiiit." The squid finished, with a deadpanned expression.

Chester was stunned.

At first, he wanted to just out-right reject _even the suggestion_ that he just _abandon_ a mystery and leave it unsolved. But, as he thought deeper about it, Chester began to grudgingly admit that Harold was probably right. At the moment, he just didn't have the time to freak-out over every single mystery that this blatantly physics-breaking game provided. Besides, now they had even less time than he first anticipated, the reckoning was upon them, and they had to focus on killing the Black King as soon as possible. As much as it pained his inner analytical scientist, the mystery of the strange Goo-Babies, would have to wait.

"...I...Suppose you have a point." He grudgingly conceded.

Harold settled for a shit-eatingly smug smirk.

Just then, Boreall triumphantly reentered the room, holding a First-Aid kit, that Chester recognized from his Grandpa's medicine cabinet.

Seeing Chester on his feet again, and in seemingly good health, Boreall frowned, and slowly set the case down, and awkwardly shuffled to a corner of the room, softly muttering,

 _ **"**_ _ **Deh Sqeed cuhmandeed meh tehh geet meduhceen,"**_

"IIIIIIIIIIIII neeeeeeeeeeeeedeeeeeeeeeeed toooooooooo geeeeeet theeeeeeee iiiiiiimbeeeeeccccciiiiillllleeee oooooouuuuut ooooooffffff theeeee rrrrrroooooooom fffffooooorrrrrr aaaaaa wwwwwhiiiiillllleeeee." Harold explained,

As Boreall glared at the squid, Chester shrugged, and went back to trying to find a way to solve their pressing "transportation problem".

He had foolishly earlier taken the responsibility of securing a way to the battlefield upon himself, and now...he still had no idea how to do that. The teleporter was kind-of a bust, and with the reckoning already upon them, time was running out.

On the one hand, he felt completely stressed out, and agitated to all hell over it. But on the other hand, he _quite frankly_ was the only one of the three the that he felt was upto such an important task. Evan's too much of an irrational berserker with a short attention span to figure out an abstract problem like this, Chester mused, and Chris...Chris would likely just get distracted, wander off, and completely forget about it.

Still, it wasn't easy being the only responsible and competent member of the team, he grumbled. At this point, he would practically _sell his soul_ for some kind of hint on how to proceed.

Just then, his pesterchum beeped.

Intrigued, he opened it, and immediately sighed in irritation,

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

%$: _That can be arranged..._

IL: Shut up. And go die in a fire.

IL: Ideally both, in either order.

IL: Goodbye.

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

"WWWWWhaaat'sssssss thaaaaaaat?" Harold approached curiously,

"Just some internet spam-bot. Nothing important." Chester quickly muttered, in a dismissive manner.

Harold narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but said nothing.

To be honest, this mystery user was intriguing. At first, Chester was quite simply creeped the hell out, but now, after all the other shit that had happened recently, a mysterious text-app user that knew... a little too much...was significantly less unsettling.

Normally, he would have probably went along with the user's offer of help, but at this point, it was the principle of the thing. The guy...or gal, on the other end of pesterchum, was, quite frankly, a complete and total smug bastard, and Chester flat-out refused to have anything to to with him (her?).

Regardless, there were better things to do, and Chester decided to get back to them.

Turning to Boreall, who he was desperately hoping had analyzed the teleporter's internal components in his absence, and internally dreading the answer, Chester asked,

"So. Did you make any progress on figuring out the teleporter?"

 _ **"**_ _ **Alass, Ah huve nut. Deh teluhpoortur hus noh Inteernuhl cuhmpunents. At all."**_

Confused, Chester asked, "What? Can you elaborate?"

The sprite simply floated to the metal pad in the center of the room, and after some fiddling, opened a hatch in it's side. Boreall then beckoned him over.

Chester approached and looked in.

Almost immediately, his heart sunk.

There was noting inside.

At all.

The entire interior of the metal disk that was the teleporter was completely empty, utterly devoid of any wires, strange alien power cores, or anything else.

Chester was finally confronted by the plain fact that the teleporter would not offer a way to the battlefield.

He wasn't sure how to react. The practical and logical part of him was desperately running through other possible alternatives, and urging him to immediately get back to work, while the emotional part of him was panicking and declaring that "All was lost".

Ultimately, though, he knew deep down that this was all desperate rationalization and that there likely was absolutely nothing that he could do to find a solution to this.

'Oh god, how am I going to explain this to Evan,' he thought,

Evan would likely never let him live this down, Chester fretted. Chris, meanwhile, likely wouldn't care either way. Hell, Chester would be genuinely surprised if Chris even remembered that it was _Chester's job_ to find transport.

As Chester continued his little "psychotic episode", he was distracted by the vibrations of his laptop.

Annoyed at this disruption to his mental breakdown, that he really wanted to get back to, Chester picked up his laptop, grumbling about what he would do if this was that mysterious asshole again.

Opening it, he was both pleasantly surprised, and nerve-wrackingly anxious to see that it was Evan who had messaged him.

'Oh great', his mind groaned. Explaining his embarrassing failures to Evan was the _last_ thing he needed right now. Although, as he read Evan's short statement, Chester became anxious, and more... confused.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

EE: Hey, Chester, Quick Question.

EE: Where are you?

'What the hell did this even mean?' Chester wondered. Why would Evan need to know that? Thoroughly taken aback and mildly suspicious, Chester answered.

IL: I'm not at the house.

IL: Currently preforming... er...

IL: Experiments.

IL: On a teleporter. In one of the crystal pillars.

EE: Cool, cool

EE: Anyway, do you think you could...

IL: *Sigh* What do you want?

EE: Well, if you would mark the pillar you're in, that would be nice.

EE: *Bloody things all look the same*

IL: …

IL: I'll see what I can do.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

Well then, that was certainly one of the stranger things to happen today, Chester mused. Evan's behavior was really... odd. He was probably planning or hiding something, Chester determined. A key thing he had noticed, over all of his years of interacting with Evan, was that whenever the young psychopath began acting polite and asking for things, a radical shift in his behavior, there was always a scheme of some sort in motion.

At this point though, Chester was just happy Evan didn't know about the teleporter failure, so he was more than willing to let whatever plans Evan had cooked up run their course.

Speaking of which,

"Hey. Is there a way to the roof?" he asked Harold,

The squid stared at him for a few seconds, before floating across the room, tapping a section of wall with a tentacle, and allowing a hidden door to slide open.

Chester then turned to Boreall, and asked,

"Can you go up there. And... Well... I'm not sure. I guess. Make yourself visible...or something to distinguish this spire from the others. I think Evan's looking for me."

Boreall puffed out his ghostly chest, announced,

 _ **"**_ _ **Fur deh Emprah!"**_

And floated into the newly-opened door, and out of sight.

With Evan's request dealt with, Chester was about to turn to Harold to ask about any other means of reaching the Battlefield, when Boreall frantically re-entered the room.

 _ **"**_ _ **Thou wheel whish too seeh dis,"**_ the sprite proclaimed,

With nothing better to do, Chester shrugged, and hesitantly followed the sprite into the passage. The secret door opened into a narrow staircase, that spiraled up into the blackness of the tower.

Boreall glowed in the dark, though, so that was nice.

After a short walk, they arrived on a small flat area, upon the very summit of the pillar. Chester took a moment to gaze at the majestic scenery before him, before following Boreall's gaze, to that which had interested the sprite.

Chester's mind was blown.

Dimly, he could only stagger out, in utmost bewilderment, "How... The... Hell?"

Before him, hovered Evan's Winnebago.

While Chester's mind was trying and failing to re-boot, he blankly noticed several things. First, the camper had several new...upgrades. Chief of which, being the two metal wings attached to it's sides. A fighter-jet grade engine was welded under each wing.

Second, was the system of gears where the wings were connected to the body of the camper. These, seemingly allowed the wings (And engines) to rotate, and allow the Winnebago to hover.

Somehow.

Honestly, this goddamn thing violated practically every scientific law there was. Chester could tell, at a glance, that there was no way that those dinky engines could possibly keep the Winnebago aloft. Yet, there it was. About three hundred meters away. Violating science by it's mere existence.

At this point, Chester was too exhausted to care. T'was just another scientific impossibility of Sburb's doing to add to the list.

Oh, and there was Evan. Leaning out of the driver's side window, waving.

Still too shocked to give it any coherent thought, Chester waved back.

Evan leaned back in, and the Winnebago flew over to the tower, and landed on the roof.

The door slowly creaked open, and out strolled Evan, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"What'ya think?" he asked smugly,

Behind him in the Winnebago, Chester could make out Chris, _literally_ bouncing off the walls at the prospect of meeting all his friends in person.

Though Chester was happy to see them, he remained shell-shocked, at this blatant insult to the laws of Physics, that was parked right in front of him.

Eventually, realizing that they were staring at him, and that he should probably say something, he managed to stutter,

"How? How the hell did you do this...this... flying machine?"

Evan pointed to the wings, and deadpanned,

"I added the wings, then I attached engines to them." As if that explained everything.

"But...but... It shouldn't be able to fly like that" Chester protested.

"It just flew a few second ago," Evan noted,

"The engines are too small to support something of that size! The center of gravity is way off! That thing should be flipping over every-time you fire it up!" Chester continued, distressed,

"Well it isn't flipping over, now is it?" Evan pointedly noted, smug as all hell,

"HICHESTER!" Chris shouted from inside the camper, interrupted the nerd's train of thought,

"Hello Chris," Chester automatically answered, waving,

Evan exited the Winnebago's door-frame, and walked up to Chester. Annoyed, he asked,

"So, can we skip the rest of your existential crisis about the flying Winnebago?"

Chester paused for a moment, before deciding that, in all honesty, a flying camper was _far_ from the strangest thing he had seen so far. He'd explain it with Science...eventually...but not now. On top of that, as he looked it over, it finally sunk in that, since the other two kids were here, the Winnebago was space-worthy...somehow. Thus, the lack of transport was solved.

Seeing how Chester was eying the machine, Evan said,

"Oh, right, _You_ were doing the transport thing, Sorry about that. I hope you don't mind, I just really wanted to do this..."

Chester tried to keep a neutral face as inwardly he cheered with joy. (Or, that is, if Chester _ever_ actually did cheer...) Evan didn't know about his failure... perhaps, he reasoned, T'was better for it to stay that way.

"Well." He began " I had a thing set up..." He trailed off, "But. I suppose since you went through all the trouble. We can use your thing. I guess,"

He then intently watched Evan for any signs that he saw through his ploy... but Evan showed no visible reaction, so Chester figured that he was in the clear.

Evan glanced at Chester's scarf and coat, and derisively snorted,

"What the hell are you wearing, Chester?"

Chester looked at the sword that hung on Evan's hip, and said,

"Did you seriously make a chainsaw-sword?"

Chris, who had walked out after Evan, interrupted Evan's following barb, by excitedly shouting,

"Guys!Look!" ,showing off his steel helmet and greaves, and saying,"Ihave Coolarmor too!"

Evan, who had already seen it earlier, said nothing. Chester, who had yet to see it, nodded approvingly. Chris, he thought, had done an admirable job. This armor of his, was pretty sweet. Though he wasn't an expert on the subject, Chester was fairly certain that it definitely looked like authentic middle ages plate mail.

Though, outwardly, he just appraised it with a glance, nodded, and said,

"It's nice."

Chris knew that was high praise indeed, (Coming from Chester), and squee'd in happiness.

Evan was growing visibly annoyed with the length of the pleasantries, so Chester defused the situation by asking,

"So. Can we get this started please?" "Besides." he added, "How are we even going to go about this in the first place?"

Evan perked up at the talk of battle-plans, and with a shrug, said,

"Well, er... we load up into the Winnebago, We go to Skaia," he said, pointing at the mammoth blue orb floating serenely overhead, "We land, We kill the Black King, Mission Complete," he finished, crossing his arms with a smug smirk,

"Err..." Chester began, "I don't think it's going to be that simple."

"Why not?" Evan asked, feeling that he'd just won the argument,

"Well..." Chester started, trying to find a hole in Evan's reasoning, "... You know...", "Errr..." Damn. He had nothing. Evan _did_ list an, albeit simplified, version of what they needed to do.

...

"I suppose you have a point," Chester conceded,

"Lookguys, youremissing thepoint," Chris interrupted,

"We'reallhere now, andtogether, there'snothing thatcan stopus!" he triumphantly declared,

"Yeah!" Evan agreed, "Let's do this!"

"Well. It obviously won't be as simple as you put it. But it will probably work out..." Chester reluctantly agreed,

Chris then shouted,

"GROUPHUG!", and went to hug his friends,

"Touch me, and I'll break your fingers," Evan yelled, as Chris approached him,

"Chris. No." Chester said, backing away as he did so,

Chris ignored them, and drew them into a hug.

Evan started fidgeting, and swearing at Chris to let go, Chester started thrashing about like a fish on dry land, and then, in the middle of all that, Harold arrived on the platform.

Taking a look around, the squid declared,

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII'M nooooooooot eeeeeeeeveeeeeeen gooooooiiiiiiing toooooooo aaaaasssssssssk." and proceeded to go back down.

 _ **"**_ _ **HUZZAH,"**_ Boreall shouted, and joined the hug,

"Boreall! You traitor!" Chester wheezed out, as Evan's attempts at escape began to suffocate him.

After a few more moments of Evan's thrashing and death-threats, and Chester's failed escape attempts, Chris and Boreall let them go.

Evan shook himself off, and turned to Chris, mustering the darkest voice he could, before uttering, **"If you touch me again, I'll hit you so hard you won't need the Winnebago to reach orbit."**

Chris just smiled under his helmet and ignored it as always.

"Alright. So can we please go now? Before anything _else_ gets in the way?" Chester asked,

Looking back at Chris, Evan hurriedly agreed, "Yes, lets,"

Chris bounced inside the camper, gleefully shouting, "ROADTRIP!"

Evan and Chester soon followed him in.

Having never seen it before, Chester took his time to observe the Winnebago, and found it to be even more nuts than Evan's descriptions and photos had let on.

For starters, there was a metal skirt running along the edges of the machine, presumably, to protect the machine's wheels. It resembled the ones found on tanks in the Second World war, except that this one was haphazardly strung together out of rusty and jagged metal.

Looking at it, Chester found himself wising he had chosen to update his tetanus vaccine, earlier in the year.

Apart from the ball turret on the roof, and the fortified windows, there was little else on the outside that Chester wasn't already aware of.

As he followed Evan indoors, the parade of odd instruments and upgrades continued. Against one corner, near the dining booth, a pile of sandbags rested against the wall. Elsewhere, various ammunition boxes, dating back to the Vietnam war, were sitting upon a shelf. In the center of the camper, a hole was cut in the ceiling, with a metal ladder sticking out, which Chester surmised led to the machine-gun. Upon one wall, a picture of Joseph Stalin hung, with various sharp objects sticking out of it. Various propaganda posters straight out of "The Red Scare" plastered the walls.

All in all, Chester wasn't particularly surprised by the Winnebago's contents, and figured that they suited Evan nicely.

Still, as Evan sat in the driver's seat, and Chris hurriedly plonked himself down beside him, Chester decided to voice a concern that had been nagging at him for a while,

"Hey Evan?"

"Mhm..." The youth replied, fiddling with the buttons on the dash,

"Will this thing survive breaking atmosphere?"

To that, Evan just turned around, looked him in the eye, and said,

"It picked up Chris with no problems"

Chester couldn't really argue with that, despite the fact that it's engines were clearly way too small to accelerate it enough to escape the planet's gravitational pull, and that the Winnebago itself was _clearly_ way too flimsy to survive the tremendous pressures involved in entering or exiting a planet's atmosphere.

As Chester went to close the door, he noticed Boreall expectantly hovering outside, with a pleading look on the sprite's face, similar to a begging puppy.

Turning to the driver, he called,

"Evan? Can Boreall come along?"

Without turning around, Evan grunted, "Nah, He'll get in the way,"

Turning back to the sprite, Chester apologetically said, "You heard him. Sorry Boreall,"

The sprite hung his head, and floated back into the building dejectedly.

With him gone, Chester shut and locked the door.

Evan called for him to get into a seat, so Chester rushed over to the dining booth, and strapped himself into a forward facing couch... That had seat-belts...for some reason.

Then, as the engines outside began to emit a dull roar while they fired up, another thought struck Chester.

"Evan?" he nervously called,

"WHAT?!" came the thoroughly irritated reply,

"How did you guys survive in space!?" he called back,

"What do you mean?" Evan asked, now confused, as well as irritated and annoyed,

"The Winnebago isn't airtight! So how do you guys not suffocate?" Chester said, yelling to be heard over the engines,

"... I don't know!" Evan called back, soon adding, "We kinda just don't,"

"How the hell does that even work?" Chester shouted back,

"Majjyks!" Chris interrupted,

"...That's probably not that far off," Evan agreed,

"I am a man of science!" Chester declared, his words washed away in the increasing cacophony of noise from the engines. "And I refuse to accept "Majjyks" as an answer!" he added,

Evan just shrugged, returned to what he was doing, and called over his shoulder,

"You holding on tight, back there?"

Chester checked his harness, noticing a sinking feeling appear in the pit of his stomach, 'This is why I don't go on roller-coasters' he thought, before calling back,

"Good enough... I hope."

"Wonderful," Evan said, before pulling a lever, and sending the Winnebago into motion.

Immediately, Chester was pushed back into his seat as the camper took off at a speed that made fighter-jets jealous. The Winnebago emitted various metal groans due to the immense pressures and heat on it's metal body. Chester was horrified that it would get torn apart, or that the wings would tear off, and he really didn't fancy falling to the ground in a metal coffin.

Despite his fears, the superstructure of the Winnebago held, for the time being, and he allowed himself a glimmer of hope that maybe, things would turn out okay.

Just then, though, Evan cranked the Winnebago's speed up further, so the forces that were currently uncomfortably pressing Chester into the seat, increased to a point where he felt he was going to be crushed into goo.

The pressure increased, until it reached nearly unbearable levels, where Chester was beginning to see spots in his vision. Dimly, he heard Chris joyfully shout,

"THISIS EVENBETTER THESECONDTIME!" from the front seat.

As Chester felt like he was about to black out, the pressure suddenly dropped to nothing, and he was suddenly thrown forward against the seatbelt.

Then, for a few heart-beats, nothing happened.

From the front, he heard Chris unbuckle his belt, and soon the youth was flying down the narrow length of the camper.

Chris flew past him, waving, then disappeared in the other side of the Winnebago.

Chester counted to five mentally, then unbuckled himself, and began to awkwardly maneuver to the front, in zero gravity.

This was harder than anticipated, Chester noted, growing particularly annoyed at Chris, who was gracefully floating and maneuvering through the camper.

Eventually, he made it to the front, where Evan was (Somehow) steering the Winnebago through space, using the gas-pedal and the steering wheel. Chester wasn't even going to ask how that worked.

Also, since they hadn't suffocated to death yet, Chester concluded that Evan was correct about the majjyk air-tight Winnebago.

Sinking into the seat beside Evan, he buckled up and stared in awe through the front window.

So this was space, he thought. All the documentaries and pictures he had seen failed to do it justice. It was simply grand. There was no other words for it. There were millions of little pin-pricks of light everywhere, and, framed in the center of the window, serenely floated Skaia.

The giant, blue orb was their destination, and even at this distance, it looked positively colossal. He could even make out features on it's surface already.

Chester was thankful for his helmet, he really didn't want Evan to see him staring at it and begin jeering at him for it.

Speaking of Evan, he sat there beside him, leisurely moving the steering wheel and occasionally pressing a button on the dash. He didn't appear to be remotely interested in the captivating canvas of space before him.

'Oh well. His loss' Chester thought.

His further gazing into the blackness of space was canceled, when Chris rocketed in between him and Evan, and in fear squeaked,

"ummguyswhat isthat?", pointing upwards.

Chester and Evan both followed his gaze, and at the same time they saw _it_ , an ominous shadow fell over the Winnebago, as a simply massive shape came between them and Skaia...

While Chester and Evan simply stared at it blankly, both thinking, 'What the hell is that?', Chris remembered these things all too well from his dream... _although_ , this one was purple, for some reason.

It was clearly a ship of some kind, Chester noted. Though what a ship it was, it was almost two kilometers long, (or so Chester guesstimated) it had massive, purple, ornate towers and crenelations all over it's boat-like hull, and several mammoth barreled objects on it's outer deck that Chester assumed to be cannons of some kind. Various smaller cannons also could be made out, nestled within it's decorative Gothic spikes and bulkheads.

These same barreled objects, began to move, and slowly aimed towards their little Winnebago...

Chester suddenly felt a lot less safe inside the Winnebago's thin steel walls.

Evan was quite sharp on the uptake, and immediately shouted, "Buckle up!" at Chris, while simultaneously accelerating the Winnebago.

Chester was slammed into the seat for a second time, as Chris was sent flying backwards, to impact a wall somewhere in the back of the Winnebago with a metal *thud*.

The cannons kept turning.

The Winnebago picked up speed, and Evan began to shakily jerk it around, trying to throw off their aim...whoever "they" were, that is.

A piercing, violet glow began to build up in the barrels of the ship's cannons.

Evan threw the camper into a sudden turn, straight into the mysterious ship.

The cannons fired.

Blinding rays of light streaked past the Winnebago, violently shaking it, but not hitting.

For a few seconds, Chester kept his eyes shut, and counted his heart-beats. After a few moments had passed, and the heatwave was gone, he opened his eyes.

They were still alive.

Evan then shouted with indignation, "HOW DARE THEY SHOOT AT ME!?"

Meanwhile, Chester was looking at the enemy ship again. Gazing at the size of the cannons being fired at them, he surmised that these cannons were designed for Capital ship combat, and never intended to hit something as small as the Winnebago.

He then called to Evan,

"Nice dodge. I thought we were going to die for a second there."

Evan turned to him, still flying straight at the ship, and grimly said,

"I wasn't dodging."

Chester was flabbergasted, "What?" he asked, getting slightly concerned,

"I'm not intending to merely *Survive*," Evan spat, "I plan to win."

"How the hell are you going to do that?" Chester asked with growing worry, "We don't have any weapons."

"We have swords and guns," Evan countered,

"B-But. Swords and Guns. Can't... You... What?" Chester stammered, thoroughly confused and frightened. But then, it hit him.

"Oh god." he murmured, "You don't mean to say you plan on..."

"Yep," Evan said, grinning beneath his helmet, "Gonna ram those bastards, and kill every single one of them," he purred, pointing at a tower that rose higher than the rest, with a large glass window, and was adorned with regal banners, showing a... black Chess crown?, upon a field of white.

With a sinking feeling, Chester suddenly realized who they were fighting.

"Evan." he said,

"Mmmm" came the response,

"I think these fellows might be minions of the Black King. From that... errr...Purple, Chess...D...Der...Derse! Derse planet." Chester said, pleased at his excellent memorization of Harold's speeches,

"THAT COWARD TRIES TO KNOCK US OFF BEFORE WE EVEN REACH HIM!?" Evan bellowed in rage, before adding, "Oh, hold on a sec," and throwing the ship to the left, eliciting a pained groan from Chris, while a violet beam immolated the place they were just occupying.

As they got closer, the ship's spires and body rapidly growing larger before them, Chester noticed, with great distress, that the many, many small turrets aboard the ship were now swiveling to target them.

This, was what he was worried about. In WarSlammer, the Capital Ships had their big, massive lazer Lance Batteries, and Rockets, and things, for ship to ship actions, but, to ward off tiny fighter craft, the mammoth Capital Ships also carried massive amounts of small point-defense cannons, that would shred any fighter that got in range.

Chester had a sinking feeling that these cannons had a similar purpose.

Without thinking further, he grabbed Evan's arm, and shouted, "EVADE!"

Evan, immediately swung the Winnebago to the side, and not a moment too soon, for the space they were occupying was soon filled with small, iridescent purple bolts.

The pilot threw the camper side to side, temporarily abandoning his plan of getting close enough to ram the bridge, but just focusing on staying alive.

Chester, in his spot as a captive witness in the passenger seat, was treated to watching many blasts pass dangerously close to the camper, while being unable to do anything.

At first, he thought Evan would try to put distance between them and the ship, but after several heart stopping minutes of evading the point-defense guns, which were filling everything around them with withering levels of fire, Chester realized that Evan was still trying to ram the bridge, regardless off the sheer impossibility of such a task under present circumstances.

"FORGET ABOUT THE BLOODY BRIDGE!" he half shouted, half wailed at the pilot,

"I CAN DO THIS!" Evan yelled back,

"No EVAN." Chester yelled. "YOU CAN'T. WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW. OR WE ARE GOING TO DIE." he pleaded.

"No." Evan answered, "WE CAN DO THIS, THAT DAMN SHIP ISN'T GETTING AWAY!"

Realizing that appealing to Evan's common sense wouldn't work, Chester tried a different approach,

"If you die here, who will kill the Black King?" he quietly murmured, "Who will kill the Communists?"

That, Chester could see, had struck a cord with the young psychopath. Evan turned quiet, as he mulled it over, and suddenly, jerked out of the point-defenses' line of fire, and accelerated underneath the ship, and out upon the other side.

Chester internally cheered. In the background, Chris faintly called, "IAGREEWITH CHESTER,IWANNAGOHOME NOW!"

Soon, after yet more terrifying dodging, they were out of the point-defense guns' range, though, now, the massive ship was turning in pursuit. Though that was of little concern, due to the Winnebago's speed leading to them rapidly outpacing the enemy vessel.

Then, another horrible thought struck Chester,

Turning to Evan, he said,

"Hey. Why are we faster than them?"

"Hmm?" Evan muttered,

"Well." Chester explained, "On water. Large boats are slower than small boats because of air resistance and friction with the water. But in space. There is no air or friction. So...the only thing that determines speed is engine size. And they have bigger engines than we do... So why are we faster?"

As he finished though, he already knew the coming answer,

Chis stuck his head between the seats, again, and said, "SburbMajjyks."

"Honestly." Chester said, "You're probably right."

"Sayyyy," Chris suggested, "Sincewesurvived, wannahave a grouphug?"

Evan and Chester both gave a resounding, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO", as Chris hugged everyone,

As the Winnebago sped towards Skaia, leaving the lumbering Dersite battleship behind, none of the Winnebago's occupants noticed a curious, faint, green glow surrounding it...

 **A/N: So then, the gang is together, and, next Chapter, the Black King awaits...**


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: Well then, here it is, the Black King fight, in all it's glory.**

 **After this, we only have a few chapters until the conclusion of "Act 1", and gosh, I am so happy to see how far this story has come. So to you guys, I say; Thank You, it is your feedback and support that keeps me writing.**

 **In other news, I will try to get Spyzee to pump out some story-related artwork of...some kind, to commemorate the (Eventual) conclusion of the first act. (Timeline wise, this roughly occurs parallel with the first act of Homestuck, along with parts of the second act.)**

 **Lastly, I do not own anything here, except the OC's and the awesome Winnebago.**

 **Like and Review, and, I hope you enjoy...**

In deep space, approaching Skaia...

Evan lazily adjusted the Winnebago's controls, as it cruised gently towards the colossal blue orb before them. About half an hour ago, Chris had reported losing sight of the battleship from the back-window, and, not being able to see it from the rear-view mirrors, Evan concurred, they had indeed, left it safely behind. Some part of him still raged over fleeing from a fight. It was pacified when he promised to track down the ship later, once the Black King was dead. Because nothing. Absolutely Nothing. Makes a fool of him and lives.

Since then, they slowed down a bit, and proceeded to make their way to the battlefield. Chris stayed in the back, content to raid Evan's pantry, and consume all the _somewhat_ edible, ten year old, ration bars, while Chester stayed in his seat, and dozed off after a while. For his part, Evan kept driving. Besides, he'd once stayed up for three whole days, this was nothing.

Despite his mellow exterior, Evan was still pretty wound up. This was it. Today, the Black King would die...By his hands, preferably, bastard had it coming after that despicable, underhanded, downright _ **communist**_ stunt with the ship that tried to kill them. Evan would never forgive himself if one of the others landed the killing blow.

Still, all his excitement and adrenaline was unnecessary, _for now_ , so he bottled it up and kept things relaxed. For now.

He knew he'd get his chance to kill things soon enough. Still, he let a small smirk form under his helmet, and began to tap his fingers against the wheel, while turning on the radio with his other hand.

Due to the lack of radio stations (Or the planet Earth, for that matter.), the radio simply produced static. Annoyed, he fumbled with the glove-box, and retrieved some cassettes.

Plugging one in, he began jamming out to the opening notes of Fortunate Son, while in the seat beside him, a napping Chester grunted at the sudden noise.

Somewhere in the back, Chris could be heard, snapping his fingers to the music...or something.

At this point though, Evan was too happy to care. He was about to kill his enemies, and he had his friends, what more could he ask for?

Soon, the loud music woke up Chester, who grumbled something incoherent at him, as he sleepily wandered back to the kitchen and dining area.

Evan didn't care, though, that just meant he could turn it up. Grinning, he set the volume to 100%, and pressed the accelerator to the floor. After all, there was nothing to hit in space, so why should he be cautious?

Two loud thumps behind him, as an unsuspecting Chester and Chris were suddenly introduced to a wall at high speed, illustrated a very good reason why he should keep to a reasonable speed.

Sheepishly, he reduced the speed, letting them fall to the ground.

A few moments later, a now thoroughly awake Chester stuck his head into the driver's compartment, looked at Evan thorough his helmet, and, with a thoroughly tired voice, began the conversation they had done so many times before,

"What the hell were you thinking. Evan?" he asked wearily, already knowing the answer

"I don't think, Thinking is for spineless politicians." Evan proudly declared, "I do."

Chester sighed, before continuing, "What you do. Is create problems and messes for me to fix. What the hell possessed you to do that without warning anyone?"

Turning around, he continued dryly, "Chris spilled his Chilli all over the floor and wall. I don't expect you'd contribute in cleaning it up?"

"Where the hell did he find chilli?" Evan asked, befuddled, "All we have here is tasteless ration packs, of... _questionable_ edibility"

"Does it matter?" Chester asked rhetorically, before adding, "I...Look. I'll clean it up. Just... can you not. Please? This is serious." Chester said, exasperated,

"I know this is serious, Chester." Evan insisted,

"I will be honest Evan. I don't think that you do." the other boy said, shaking his head,

"But everything was fine," Evan protested,

"Sure it was minor this time. But someone still might have gotten hurt." Chester said, continuing his lecture. At this point, Evan knew it was better to sit there and let him continue.

Besides, it wasn't as if this chewing out was undeserved. Then, realizing that he was tuning Chester out, as he continued to drone on, Evan, more thankful than ever for his helmet, tuned back into the monologue, as Chester continued to prattle on,

"And another thing. This careless. Idiotic. Behavior of yours needs to stop. Sure it's fine now. But what if you do something stupid when we fight the Black King? What if someone dies Evan?"

Agitated to the point of yelling, Chester shouted, "DAMN IT! EVAN!", lowering his voice, he continued, "Look. I can't keep thinking _for_ you. And I can't keep fixing your mistakes." pausing for breath, Chester quietly said, "...Just. As hard as it is... Think before you act? Okay?"

Evan sighed, and said, "Yeah, alright."

As Chester went to the back, Evan quickly muttered, "Sorry."

Ultimately though, Evan didn't think that his lack of forward planning was a major problem. He had lived his entire life in a war-zone, and not only had he survived, he had _thrived_. Tightening his grip on the wheel, Evan conceded that Chester, _may_ , have had a _slight_ point.

As frustrated as doing so made him, Evan formally resolved to exercise a _slight_ degree of caution during the coming battle.

...If only to get Chester off his back.

Chris, for his part, had reverted to his tried and true strategy of neutrality. The young lad was currently lounging in the dining area, playing _**Light-Souls**_ on his laptop. An agitated Chester stomped past him, and wandered into the bedroom at the back of the camper to cool-off.

Evan waited until he was sure Chester was gone, then returned to driving the Winnebago. After a few minutes slow progress, he grunted, and began to _slowly_ accelerate the vehicle. Increasing the speed _a little_ , he paused, and waited to see if there would be any _further_ lectures from Chester. Several moments passed, and Evan concluded that he would be able to get them to a "moderate" speed, without agitating Chester further.

Before accelerating though, he turned around, and did what, to be fair, he probably should have done the first time,

"Buckle up! We're speeding up!", he called back, before _gently_ flooring the accelerator, and sending the Winnebago forward, with a speed that made it feel like they were actually getting somewhere.

Since there were no crashing noises, or pained groans from the rear, Evan assumed that everyone had heeded his warning...in the point-five seconds he had given them.

Thus, the Winnebago continued on it's path towards Skaia.

XXXXX

Soon, they were beginning to enter the planet's gravity well. The blue sphere was now so big that it obscured the entire horizon. Massive mountain ranges, as well as oceans and forests were beginning to be visible at this range.

Gently slowing down during the approach, Evan called Chris and Chester up-front.

Having put away his laptop, Chris eagerly bounded into the cabin, with Chester pacing close behind.

Judging by Chester's refusal to meet his gaze, it seemed that he was still mad, Evan noted glumly. He and Chester had scrapped on many, many separate occasions, so Evan had first hand experience with the other boy's various methods of fighting a passive-aggressive war. Chief among them, outright ignoring the other party. Which was exactly what Chester was doing just then.

' _Dang_ ,' Evan thought, 'He could be like that all day, and that's the last thing I need to deal with right now,'

Chris's excited babbling about how pretty Skaia was, drew Evan back into the present. Absentmindedly scanning his instruments, (all of which were designed for a road-based motor-home, and none of which provided any useful information about flying a spaceship), he flipped a few switches, locking the wings in place, so they wouldn't come off in atmosphere.

Glancing back up, he looked at Skaia, and wondered just what the hell Chris and Chester saw in it. Sure, it was pretty and looked kinda cool, but that was about it. It's looks had entertained him for all of a second, before he swiftly grew bored with it, and yet, here Chester and Chris were, pointing at and talking about _bloody clouds_ of all things. Evan just didn't get it.

A slight shuddering in the metal structure, accompanied by tortured groans of metal, signaled their official crossing into the planetary atmosphere. With every second, the shuddering increased, beginning to flat-out shake the entire Winnebago. The steel armor plating began to quiver under the pressures placed upon it.

Then, the shaking and groans stopped, as Evan halted the Winnebago's descent, and leveled it out at it's current level, flying horizontally with the ground.

At this point, he judged, they were somewhere in the very top of it's atmosphere, about a hundred miles up, or so.

Chester tapped his shoulder, and said, still trying to stay mad,

"Alright. Level it out here. We'll fly around a bit. Get a bearing for the situation. And go down once we know what we're doing."

Evan shrugged, "Sounds good," he muttered,

As he was beginning to gently ease the Winnebago forward, intent to just fly around the planet part-way, and get a feel for things, Chris suddenly stiffened, and pointed to something in the corner of the windshield, murmuring in concern,

"heyguys,there'smoreof thosethings..."

Evan couldn't see what he was talking about, so he gradually turned the Winnebago in a graceful arc, until the entire ship was flying in the direction Chris had pointed.

What he saw elicited both excited blood-lust, and a deep feeling of dread...

Far in the distance, were seven very familiar purple specks...

At first, Evan felt a giddy anticipation, and he hoped that _perhaps_ , _maybe_ , _just maybe_ , Chester could be convinced into allowing an attack on the ships. Evan was still smarting from the humiliating retreat they made, and eager for vengeance.

Then, the (small) rational side of him noted that, since they barely survived a run-in with _one_ capital ship, they would hardly fare better with several ships. Still, he thought, in all the time they spent in atmosphere, only now had they spotted these Dersite ships, and they were all floating still, in formation...curious...

Glancing at Chester, he asked,

"I think they might be guarding something, should we check it out?"

A thoughtful look crossed Chester's face for a moment, and he reluctantly agreed,

"I...Well...I suppose it couldn't hurt." He said, before adding,"But we need to be ready to pull out at a moments notice."

"...Fine," Evan grudgingly agreed,

In the back, Chris added, "Weshoulddo thisallstealth-like, thoseships arescary."

Hmm... he had a point there, Evan noted. _Though_ , he wasn't particularly sure on how one could be stealthy while in the Winnebago, but he'd give it a shot. Maybe he could, like, drive all slow and stuff.

Lowering the speed, and trying to make the several ton Winnebago move as discretely as possible, Evan slowly glided towards the parked Capital Ships.

With every passing second, as they approached the purple behemoths, he grew more tense. The ships knew of the Winnebago's presence, Evan was sure of it, they were just letting them get close, within optimal range, before opening fire. He was ready to, at any given moment, throw the camper into evasive maneuvers and throw off enemy aim.

Yet, remarkably, no fire ever came.

Soon, their small Winnebago was within twenty miles of the closest ship.

At this range, the fleet could be seen clearly, there were six smaller ships, with only a single, central spire, as well as a single, colossal vessel.

This behemoth of a ship dwarfed not only it's escort, but also the ship that had given chase to them above Chester's planet. The Winnebago was like a gnat before this Goliath. Hundreds of weapon emplacements dotted it's elaborately ornate hull, and dozens of towers and spires jutted out from it's superstructure, projecting an aura of menace and dread that was practically palpable.

Yet, it too, did not seem to notice them.

 _'Do they...not have radar?_ ' Evan wondered, ready to jump at the slightest movement of it's guns. Beside him, Chester looked like he desperately wanted to find a hole of some sort, and hide in it.

As the seconds agonizingly ticked by, the fleet still gave them no notice, and they grew more relaxed as time passed. Soon, Evan felt bold enough to try and go lower in the atmosphere, and try to see what was at ground level.

He began to gently maneuver the Winnebago, so that it was facing the ground, and then softly nudged it into motion.

Cautiously, the small, nimble Winnebago, slipped downwards towards the ground. Every moment, Evan felt like the ships would spot them, yet, the mammoth ships above did nothing.

After a few more heart-stopping moments, the Winnebago passed through the rolling layer of clouds that covered most parts of Skaia's surface, and, for the first time, they beheld the surface of the great planet.

The first, most striking detail that caught his eye, was the gargantuan white and black squares that seemingly covered the entire landscape. At this distance, Evan guessed that, they were about...a square mile in size. The strange thing was, that the squares were arranged in alternating rows...kind of like...

"No." he declared firmly,

Chester glanced over, confused, "Huh?"

"The squares," he said, "The white and black aliens, It's a god-damn chessboard!" Evan rumbled, annoyed at the sheer silliness of such a thing. And just when he was beginning to regard the purple ships as "menacing".

He imagined that whoever created Sburb was, in fact, mentally damaged enough to find such things "clever" and "witty". Evan, for his part, thought that these stupid bloody squares were stupid.

"Lookguys!, Itsachess board!" Chris called from the back, "Isntit cool?"

To Evan's annoyance, Chester agreed, "Mhm. It's pretty neat."

"Bloody traitor," Evan muttered under his breath

Not quite making-out what Evan said, Chester turned to him, spent a few seconds looking at him quizzically, then shrugged and went back to looking out the window.

Chris wasn't very far off in his dubbing the planet a "chessboard". The squares went on as far as the horizon, and all sorts of terrain features, from mountain ranges, to rivers and lakes were present in the tiles.

' _Chester would probably love a chessboard like this...goddamn nerd._ ' Evan thought, and, true to his word, Chester looked like he wanted to land and go exploring immediately.

Evan honestly stopped caring about the stupid squares after a few minutes, and simply continued flying, the area under the orbiting ships was quite big, and they still had much ground to cover.

As they flew by, Evan noticed some things that were...more to his interests.

Upon mountains, and in various other strategic locations, sat castles of various sizes, along with other fortifications. Curious, he brought the Winnebago closer to one.

Being closer to the ground, revealed that the castle, built of white stone, with three walls in a triangle and several towers, had a gaping hole torn in one wall. Further inspection revealed many bodies scattered across the ground, both of black...chess-people, and more surprisingly, those of the as of yet elusive white chess-people.

Along the bodies, lay what were clearly war-machines...of some sort. One resembled a white quadrupedal walker, similar to the ones from _**Galaxy Wars**_. It lay sprawled upon the ground, inside the breach in the wall, a blackened, gaping hole torn in it's side.

Intrigued, Evan maneuvered the Winnebago around for a better look.

When he saw the front of the walker, only one thing ran through his mind.

' _OH GOD! WHY?_ '

The previously "cool" walker was revealed to have a front modeled in the shape of an intricate horse's head.

Like that stupid horse-thing in chess.

Evan wanted to tear out his hair out of the sheer lengths Sburb was going to in order to hammer it's point about chess into his head.

' _YES! I BLOODY GET IT!'_ he wanted to shout at whatever dumb god made this game, _'IT'S A CHESS REFERENCE! YOU CAN STOP NOW!_ '

Just then, Chester nudged him, and said, gesturing at it,

"See. It's a knight."

Chris stared in awe.

Evan slammed his head onto the wheel in frustration.

Chester simply grinned.

Besides the stupid horse, there didn't appear to be any still living...Carapacians? Chester called them? Inhabiting the castle, despite the battle fought over it, so a short while later, he moved the Winnebago on.

Despite Evan and Chris's protests, Chester was wary of getting too close to the ground, arguing about the dangers of hidden ground-based AA turrets, and the simple danger that getting spotted by unfriendly eyes had, so, Evan (grudgingly) agreed to fly higher.

At this altitude, they were still below the cloud layer, and thus able to still see things _on_ the ground, but high enough to not be easily seen _from_ the ground.

The corpses of assorted Carapacians blanketed the ground, while scattered amongst them, the wrecks of other war-machines, both black and white, burned. Yet, there were still seemingly no living forces anywhere.

As they flew, Evan noticed something on the horizon that tempered his desire for vengeance upon the purple ships. Rising out of the ground like a jagged mountain peak, the rear section of a purple warship loomed out of the ground, half buried in the side of a hill.

Flying closer, catastrophic levels of damage could be seen on what remained of the formerly grand vessel. Many jagged holes dotted it's hull, some even seeming to run right through the ship and out the other side. It was a wonder that it was even in one piece.

While Chester and Chris stared at it in wonder, Evan merely felt a twisted sense of catharsis at seeing one of the enemies against which he was previously helpless, lying shattered upon the ground.

Aside from the wreck, there was nothing else of interest, and after circling it a few times, they simply moved on, still searching for the Black King. At this point, Evan was beginning to think that their target might just simply be upon the mammoth Dreadnaught they had seen in orbit. While he didn't doubt his own ability to board it, and... _eliminate_ everything on-board, Evan wasn't looking forward to such a...time-consuming task, and was really hoping that the Black King would be on the ground somewhere.

As he was thinking that, a dark shape appeared upon the horizon...

For whatever reason, it piqued his interest, and Evan squinted to get a better look.

Far in the distance, a rough humanoid figure was visible. The odd thing about it, was that it was nearly the size of the castles they had flown over earlier. Evan couldn't be certain, but some strange, imperceptible feeling in the back of his head told him that it was important.

Not even really sure why he was doing so, he altered their course, so that the Winnebago was now heading straight for the figure. While he was at it, he also pushed in the steering wheel, and sent them flying closer to the ground.

Curiously, Chester made no protest, as he too, seemed intrigued by this mysterious figure.

As they got closer, Evan could vaguely make out that it was black, and some faint outlines of...tentacles? Were visible coming from it's back, which was turned to them. ' _This must be what the Black King looks like_ ,' he thought, ' _Still though_ ,' he reasoned, ' _This thing was probably just a statue of some sort, to exalt the Black King. It was way too big to actually be the real Black King._ '

They were about a few miles away, and he could already tell the statue was close to the size of a small office building. While Chester and Chris were "oohing and aahing" over the statue and it's intricate, life-like details, Evan was just shaking his head at the sheer mammoth amounts of resources that building the stupid thing would have required. Furthermore, it was standing on the bare ground, devoid of any pedestal or platform.

 _'The Dersites must have run out of resources half-way through building it, and just said, "Screw the pedestal, it can stand."',_ he thought, trying to rationalize the exuberant waste of resources before him.

On top of that, the thing was located in the absolute goonies, there was nothing around for miles and miles...other than wrecked war-machines, and mountains of dead carapacians... ' _So_ ,' Evan wondered, ' _what the hell would have possessed it's architects to build the thing all the way out here?'_

Soon, they were close enough to be able to fully see the entire statue in detail. It roughly resembled a squat, bi-pedal humanoid, that held an ornate scepter in an outstretched hand...

It looked normal enough, for an exuberantly decorative statue, that is...

Except it was absolutely massive, easily reaching the size of a eight or nine story building. It's body was adorned in ornate power-armor, which Evan dimly thought he recognized from Chester's space rangers. Unlike the various imps and things that Evan had seen on Chester's world, the Black King seemed to have full-body power-armor, which looked bulkier and more ornate than that of his subordinate minions. In addition, there were many charred, jagged spikes protruding from the shoulders and gauntlets of the armor. 'These,' Evan thought, 'Must have come from my sprite'. Lastly, there were five or six blackened, slimy tentacles sprouting from the statue's back. Each was larger than the Winnebago and Evan was really beginning to wonder what the point of this statue was.

Then, he noticed something absolutely chilling...

The tentacles were...moving.

Evan suddenly developed a sinking feeling in his chest. Beside him, Chester went rigid in his seat, as he also noticed the subtle drifting of the statue's appendages.

Evan was beginning to wonder if this was in fact a statue... or something far, far worse.

Out of caution, as much as sheer surprise, he pulled the Winnebago to a sudden, screeching stop, cursing the loudness of the engines under his breath, and fervently hoped the "statue" didn't hear them. Not that he was afraid to fight the statue if it turned out to be the Black King, in the flesh, but he would have preferred to keep the element of surprise. The chance to analyze the foe before battle also didn't hurt. Thus, he deliberately drained power from the engines, lowering their total thrust, and, as a very desired side-effect, lowering the volume of their vehicle.

For several heart-beats, they floated like that, quietly staring at the statue that wasn't a statue, cautiously watching it's every move.

"What'swrong?" Chris asked, coming into the cabin, causing the others to flinch at the sheer loudness of his voice, compared to the near dead-silence that filled the camper before.

"Be quiet." Chester hissed at him, pointing at the "statue", and leaving Chris to the obvious conclusion.

To his credit, Chris quickly noticed the slight movements of the tentacles, and clued in to what they were doing, lowering his voice as he fearfully said, "Holycarpit'salive,"

Evan whispered back, not really sure if it could actually hear _anything_ they did inside the Winnebago, but nonetheless trying to maintain the illusion that they held some agency over whether it discovered the loud, jet-powered camper hovering behind it, or not.

"It's the Black King," he said, before quickly adding, "I think"

"If that is not the Black King..." Chester quietly said, trailing off ominously,

"Ithasto be," Chris stated, pointing at the ornate, ebony crown upon it's helmeted head.

' _Huh._ ' Evan thought, he'd missed that entirely. Well, at least now he finally met this thing. ' _It's size would be more of a hindrance against opponents as tall as us,_ ' he thought, already formulating plans to kill it, which, due to it's seemingly entire power-armored body, was proving harder than expected.

Any further thoughts of his were put to a stop when, with a sudden earth-shaking roar, the colossus slowly began to shift itself over, and turn to face them.

While Chris screamed, and Chester froze up, and did nothing of note from the passenger seat, Evan immediately sprung into action, setting the Winnebago to move forward, while simultaneously sending power back to the engines.

The maneuver proved risky, as they were nearly swatted from the sky like an insect, by a stray tentacle, that moved so fast Evan nearly didn't notice it, but he managed to nudge the Winnebago out of the slender limb's path just in time.

Now, they were on the Black Monarch's right side, just beneath his arm. The figure slowly tried to slap at them with a gauntleted hand, but nearly full power had been restored to the engines by this point, and they rocketed past it's hand, with plenty of time to spare.

Chris, who was standing unbuckled, was once again, sent hurtling into the back to bounce around.

At this point, they were finally in front of their foe, and Evan spared a second to gaze out the window, at the Black King's front, as several tentacles lashed out at them.

In-between dodging tentacles, he got a few brief impressions of a snarling, demon faced, power helmet, with a vast, gaping maw, and an ornate black and violet chestplate.

While he was climbing to put distance between them, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, a piercing violet light, building in intensity, somewhere behind them.

Acting on instinct, he threw the ship into a sharp roll, eliciting a pained groan from Chris, as the Winnebago was tossed like a cork in a storm. It was not a moment too soon.

Seconds later, the space it previously occupied was incinerated by a lance of baleful, purple energy.

At first, Evan mistook it as originating from a ship of some kind, and looked around the immediate air-space, to no avail. Confused, he soon saw the light building again, and this time, he looked down at it's source.

The Black King, in the snarling maw of his helmet, was gathering a ball of violet energy, and pointing it straight at the small camper.

As Evan sharply arrested their ascent, and sent the Winnebago hurtling into a dive, he could only shout,

"HE SHOOTS LAZERS? WHAT THE HELL!?"

Straitening out, and flying low to the ground, Evan heard Chester say,

"Don't look at me. Boreall had nothing to do with Lazers."

Trying to keep the Winnebago from flying into the ground, Evan responded, grunting,

"Well it's not my fault, I just prototyped a warslammer demon", and muttering, "bloody communist, hippie, traitor, piece of filth..."

From the back, Chris called forward, "I...mayhavehad somethingtodo with it..."

Chester groaned and said, "Of course he did.", not surprised in the slightest.

For his part, Evan settled for simply shouting, "DAMMIT CHRIS", while he suddenly jerked the camper into a turn, narrowly avoiding a tentacle that impaled itself into the ground before them.

"We can't keep doing this!" Chester called from beside him,

"What are you saying?!" Evan called back, "I can keep this up forever!"

Chester paused in annoyance, before responding, "...That's not what I meant. We need to actually attack at some point. And not just narrowly escape a gruesome death over and over."

Pausing while Evan deftly avoided a beam, Chester contained, "Evan. We need to land."

At first, Evan felt like rejecting the idea outright, but as he thought about it, he realized that they had no real way of counter-attacking from the Winnebago, and that, from the ground, they would be hard to see, and even harder to hit.

Thus, with a split second decision, he sharply veered right, and away from the mammoth form of the Black King. His main goal now was to put distance between them, land, put the Winnebago somewhere safe, and then move up and engage the Black King on foot.

As another lazer blast nearly tore them from the sky, he was reminded that "getting out of range", was easier said than done.

Through a combination of his foe's shitty aim, and his own random, schizophrenic, flight patterns, they avoided beam after beam, until they finally got far enough so the Black King couldn't hit them anymore.

Everyone inside the small craft gave a sigh of relief over the fact they had survived.

But their brief joy, was short-lived.

Thundering footfalls shook the ground, and the air itself trembled, as the Black King gave (a fairly slow) pursuit.

This, was exactly what Evan was counting on. Now they just needed somewhere to hide the Winnebago...

Gazing around, he saw the ruined castle with the stupid horse-robot from earlier. Smiling beneath his helmet, Evan circled it, before bringing the camper in for a... _not gentle_ landing in the courtyard.

Immediately, he and Chester sprung into action, trying to jostle their way out of the cabin at the same time. Two people trying to occupy the same place proved...impossible to accomplish, so they just got stuck in the door-frame for a while, until Chris of all people, decided to be the voice of reason, and suggested, "Whydosen't onebackout, and the otherguygo first?"

The two of them agreed, but neither wanted to go last, so they were at a stalemate...until the very castle around them began to shake from a very large, and very angry, approaching being.

Knowing Evan _still_ wouldn't compromise, Chester backed up, and let Evan pass. All three then filed out of the Winnebago, and began trying to place some distance between them and the castle.

They walked through the breached wall, circled the castle, and began to move towards the Black King, who could once again be seen on the horizon.

Eager to fight, (and without _once_ even _considering_ the _possibility_ of defeat,) Evan slid the Chainsaw-sword out of it's sheath with barely contained excitement. Chester uncaptchalogued the Undertaker, Chris shuddering at the gun's evil aura, Evan merely emitting a snort of annoyance at the gun's irritating ethereal whispers.

Chris pulled out his...completely ordinary sword, and struck a heroic pose.

Trying to organize at least some form of plan, Chester glanced to Evan, and said,

"So. How are we going to go about this?"

Evan thought on it for all of one second, then replied,

"Well, the way I see it, you have a gun, so you can shoot him. Chris and I have swords, so we will stab at his legs. Spread out, avoid the tentacles and Lazers, and don't die."

Chester didn't even waste his breath commenting on Evan's... _minimalistic_ plan, and, fiddling with his rifle, merely said,

"Say. I found out a while ago that the Undertaker has different...er." He paused, trying to think of a way to explain the concept without using what Evan called, *Science Words*, before continuing, "...Fire Modes?...Yeah. Let's go with that. Basically. I found that the longer I hold down the trigger. The more powerful the resulting blast."

"Isthere alimit ontheblast size?" Chris asked, still wary of the spooky gun,

"Well..." Chester said, "I kinda stopped experimenting after I accidentally vaporized a small hill. So. Short answer: no." he sheepishly concluded.

"So you have a lazer gun that can blow up small mounds of dirt." Evan concluded.

"Worstcase,youcanjust aimat theBlackKingand holddown thetriggerfor a reallylongtime." Chris suggested.

Glancing at Chris, Chester added, "And Chris. You are stealth-inclined. Dexterous. And agile, So if the opportunity presents itself. You can try to scale the Black King's armor and attack more vulnerable sections of it."

Chris looked at the ground, and nervously muttered, "Idon'tknow..."

Evan then butted in, and in the closest thing he could muster to a "supporting tone", said, "Pretend it's like a light-souls boss fight."

"B-but,inlightsouls, youdon't climb enemies..." Chris protested.

"ENOUGH CHRIS! IF I TELL YOU TO CLIMB IT, YOU WILL DAMN WELL CLIMB IT!" Evan bellowed in his trademarked parade ground voice, putting an end to any further protests.

Chris jumped in fear, "Okaysorryi'lldoit." he stammered.

"Dammit Evan." Chester scolded, gesturing at the shaking Chris, "Now look what you've done."

Annoyed, Evan responded, "Oh what now? I'm just fighting his rebellious attitude."

"Saying 'No' to a suicidal order is not 'rebellious'. Evan." Chester deadpanned.

"wait? ?" Chris asked,

"And before you start." Chester continued, "This is not the army. And Chris is not your subordinate. He is your friend. I know you can't see the difference. Evan. But trust me. There is one." he finished, only _somewhat_ bantering.

Whatever clever reply Evan had was drowned by the rapidly encroaching thunderous foot-falls of the Black King, who was nearly upon them. In the moments before the battle started, Evan shouted for Chester to run to the right, and into a series of light foothills, and for Chris to circle left.

He, meanwhile, would face his hated foe head-on...

Seconds later, Evan distantly saw the Black King lash out at Chris with a fusillade of three tentacles, sending plumes of dust into the air. He had no time to dwell on such things however, as the Black King simultaneously sent a beam of energy straight at him, carving a large rut in the ground, which Evan only narrowly avoided by throwing himself to the side.

From somewhere in the line of hills, small bursts of blue energy originated, and began to strike the Black monarch's armor, though they fazed out harmlessly against the power-armor. Pained roars were heard, though, as the Undertaker's _secondary_ effects could still be felt by the Black King, even _through_ his mighty armor.

Getting up, Evan continued to run forwards, as his foe's attention was turned to Chester, in the form of a beam of violet energy, that vaporized several hills, leaving a charred, glassy trench in the ground.

A lone, stray tentacle impaled the ground before him, so Evan reacted by slashing at it with his sword, and dousing it with a quick shot from his flame-glove. A sharp spurt of (surprisingly human-like) blood came from the limb, and it was sharply withdrawn with a pained roar from the mammoth figure.

Evan smiled. ' _If it bled, then it could be killed...some person must have said that...at some point in time._ ', he thought.

Resuming his sprint towards the foe, keeping his vision directed upwards to watch for more tentacles, Evan continued his furious charge towards the Black King.

The Black Monarch, meanwhile, distracted from it's attempts to target Chester by the sudden, sharp pain in one of its spindly tentacles, glanced down, and noticed Evan. Gathering a beam of violet light in the maw of it's roaring helmet, it prepared to unleash all of its anger and frustration on the small figure before it.

Then, just as it was about to fire, a lance of pain seared through it's right knee.

It roared in pain, just as it's energy beam fired, the movement causing the shot to miss the small, irritating foe beneath it by a wide margin...and directly strike a nearby crumbling ruin of a castle that belonged to the Prospitians at some point. Faced with the full power of the Black King, the white castle with the collapsed wall and the fallen Knight-Machine within it, was completely blasted to ashes, along with much of the hill it occupied.

Evan didn't bother to trail it's latest beam, simply being content with it having missed...due to it's knee being in pain for some reason... Looking around as he ran, he realized that Chester had stopped firing for a while, so he couldn't have been responsible, while he, himself, hadn't even reached the Black King yet, so he obviously hadn't done it...which left only Chris...

Glancing to it's upper legs, Evan noticed a small figure clinging to a black knee-pad...

Chris had succeeded in scaling it's leg, it seemed, and must have hit a weak-point of some kind, Evan inferred. He wasn't the only one to have noticed Chris however...

Furious at these insipid whelps that _dared_ to draw his royal blood, the Dark Monarch of Derse slowly lifted his right leg in the air, then suddenly brought it down with all his fury, sending the small worm that clung to it into the air. Then, a tentacle deftly swatted the small runt out of the sky, and into a line of nearby hills, where he landed with a cloud of dust.

Then, he directed his royal attention upon the whelp that dared challenge him by approaching him from the front...

Evan cursed as seemingly _every. single. one._ of the Black King's tentacles focused on him, and began slamming into the ground around him, throwing up a nigh impenetrable dust-cloud. He threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed by one, then threw himself forward, and onto his feet to avoid a second one.

Much to his regret, he didn't even have the time for an opportunistic slash here-and-there, he was just trying to stay alive, and *barely* succeeding.

Then, just as suddenly as they had struck, the tentacles receded... only to make way for an energy blast aimed straight at Evan...

Evan saw a purple light coming straight for him, and only had time to desperately throw himself into a small, nearby crater, formed by a tentacle's impact, before everything was enveloped by a blinding light...

The Black King idly surveyed the devastation around him with contempt. ' _ **This was the best these...mongrels could muster?**_ _'_ , the monolithic entity thought. These...lesser beings had managed to cut him, yes, but aside from that, they fell to his grand and undeniable power as easily as wheat to a scythe.

 _ **'And my Queen thought these whelps to be a threat?**_ ' the entity mentally boasted, _**'If this is what the Prospitians consider to be their mightiest champions, then this war will be over even faster than I anticipated,'**_ he concluded, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would _personally_ slay his Prospitian counterpart. In truth, the only reason the Prospitian's final stronghold on the northern continent still held on, was because he, upon his Queen's insistence, had kept many of his forces in reserve, anticipating the arrival of the so-called "nobles".

Below the gloating giant, Evan gingerly cracked open one eye.

All his body felt like it had been held in a camp-fire. Most of his over-coat was singed and blackened.

Still, he had had far worse in the past. Though, he was very thankful for his helmet. Without it, he was suspecting that he would no longer have hair.

Gently craning his head upwards, while trying to maintain the illusion of being dead, Evan saw the Black King, standing in a relaxed, yet cautious pose, tentacles poised around him, ready to strike. Evidently, it seemed, their tall foe was under the illusion that all opposition was defeated.

Evan tried not to think about the implications of what this meant for his friends... The last time he had seen Chester, was when small blasts from the Undertaker were still being fired, and the last time he had seen Chris, was when the small youth was clinging to the Black King's armored knee. He shoved his concerns out of his mind. His friends were okay. They had to be.

Focusing on the situation at hand, Evan went over his options. He could lay in the crater a bit longer, and wait for the situation to develop, he could stand up and charge the Black King right now, he could crawl over to the Black King's legs, and attack with a modicum of stealth...

Remembering Chester's earlier insistence on "thinking about things", Evan decided to analyze the situation a bit more before acting.

Firstly, he squirmed around in his crater, looking around the charred battlefield. Then, he saw it. Or, rather _didn't_ see it.

The castle where they parked the Winnebago.

It was gone.

The entire hill had a large chunk sheared out of it, and the parts that were left were charred and glassy. With a sinking feeling, he realized what this meant for the Winnebago that they had left there...

His grip on his sword tightened, and a cry of pure rage threatened to alert the Black King to him. The tiny logical part of him suggested that a stray shot of energy must have hit the hill.

He didn't care at this point, he had almost lost the Winnebago once before, and now he had lost it for good.

He was too far gone to mourn it's loss, or to curse his enemy. All he knew was that this was _somehow_ the Black King's fault, and that he was going to end the tall bastard. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

With a terrifying roar of pure hatred, he scrambled to his feet, ignoring the protests of his singed body, and hurled himself at the Black Monarch.

The black King noticed this, and raised his tentacles to remove the impudent gnat before him.

Then, something happened that took them both off guard...

From the small foothills, that had gone unnoticed for much of the battle, a brilliant lance of ethereal energy erupted, so bright that Evan found himself temporarily blind.

Then, a roar of absolute agony shook the battlefield, as the sound of something heavy hitting the ground could be heard.

Evan couldn't see what had happened, but he assumed that the Black King was suffering, and that was pretty good in his books. Still, the sheer suddenness of the whole thing took him so off-guard, that he felt much of his blinding rage slip away.

Knowing better than to blunder around while blind, he just stood perfectly still and waited for his vision to clear. He really hoped that the Black King was blind too, otherwise his completely stationary figure would make an impossible to miss target.

Fortunately, the Black King seemed to be too preoccupied with his injury (Whatever it may be), to notice him. Finally, his vision began to slowly fade in.

As he blinked away the spots from his eyes, the first thing Evan was faced with was an indistinct black shape before him. Assuming it to be a tentacle, he hopped backwards, and pointed his sword at it. Strangely, it didn't move.

Hesitantly approaching it, Evan soon noticed that it was not a tentacle that lay before him, but rather a colossal, armored, black arm, hand outstretched in his direction.

Initially, he struggled to process just what this meant, but as he looked around, and noticed the puddles of red that coated the surrounding area, he began to realize what had happened.

Glancing up confirmed his theory, as the still roaring Black King was now missing his right arm below the shoulder. The Dark Monarch's shoulder plate was cracked and smoking, the armor around it all fused together due to the intense heat.

Slowly, Evan looked towards the foothills, where Chester was likely still hiding, and muttered, "Nice," , Before he raised his chainsaw-sword, and resumed his charge...

XXXXX

In the foothills...

Chris lay on his back, groaning.

When the Black King had swatted him, it felt like half the bones in his body were broken. When he slammed into the hill at terminal velocity, it felt like the other half of them broke.

Fortunately Chester noticed that, and dragged Chris over to his firing position, and hid him on the far side of the hill, facing away from the battle.

Eventually, Chris felt well enough to crawl over to Chester, and see what he was upto.

The nerd was holding the Undertaker, which still scared the hell out of Chris, but this time, the gun wasn't being fired. Instead, the tip was simply glowing, and, judging by the noises being produced by the gun, it seemed that Chester was pouring more power into it.

Chris knew better than to interrupt Chester, so he just plopped down beside him, trying not to pass out from the dark and oppressive aura of the gun, and simply observed the battle.

When Evan was hit by a volley of tentacles, a dust-cloud obscured the fight from view, and Chris nearly began freaking out over Evan's death, when the berserker simply emerged from the dust, shouting an intense war-cry, and charged the Black King.

Just then, Chester nudged him, and said, "Close your eyes."

Chris complied.

The Undertaker's aura was almost unbearable at that point, the noise made by it charging up was almost deafening.

Then, he felt a wave of heat pour over him, coupled with a torrent of pure malice that washed over him and really made him want to crawl into a hole and cry.

An agonized roar tore across the Battlefield, and then, there was silence...

He slowly opened his eyes.

Before him, standing in a blood-soaked field, stood the Black King, minus one arm.

Seeing the sheer devastation wrought on the previously impenetrable armor, Chris bumped Chester's shoulder, and ecstatically said,

"ohmygoshthat wassoocool!"

"I was aiming for his chest." Chester grunted, before looking at him, and asking, "Are you okay?"

Chris took a moment. He could still feel his body, though it hurt like hell,

"IthinkI'mokay," he muttered,

"That's something. At least." Chester said, before asking, "Can you walk?"

Chris tried to get to his feet. Immediately, jolts of pain struck him, and he fell. He wondered if anything might be broken...

Trying again, he shakily got to his legs, and once again, was hit by a wave of pain coming from his left leg.

"definitelybroken," he groaned.

Still, undeterred, he resolved to crawl instead. Doing so brought much less pain, and he managed to convince Chester that he was still reasonably healthy.

Chester then pointed in the general direction of where they had left the Winnebago, and said, "You can't fight anymore. Get out of the line of fire for now. This won't take long."

Chris paused, hesitating, "areyousure youdon't needhelp?" he asked,

Chester sighed and waved at him to leave, so Chris began to awkwardly drag himself away.

XXXXX

Elsewhere, the Black King was experiencing incomprehensible agony.

His...remaining hand was balancing between holding his scepter, and trying to tightly clench itself around the stump of what was once his right shoulder. Not to stop the blood flow or anything, the energy that sheared off his arm seemed to cauterize the wound, this was mainly to try and dull the pain. Once again, he let out a bowel-loosening cry of rage.

These...these...insects! Had dared to harm _him_! he would-would... kill them all...

Nearly blind from the pain, he scanned the field of battle...There! In the foot-hills! A small figure had just stood up...

He began to charge the beam in his helmet. His pain scattered his thoughts, it made the beam diluted and hard to focus, his vision was shaky. But no matter, killing these vermin would require far less energy than it took to level a castle.

He vowed that they would all pay dearly for his suffering...

XXXXX

Chris tried shuffling forward. Jolts of pain coursed through his leg, along with his chest, making him suspect that perhaps some ribs were broken as well, but he grit his teeth and bore through it. One shuffle, then another, and another... he was making progress...

Then, he heard Chester suddenly shout at him to get down, and before he could even shout that he was _already crawling_ , his body threw itself further into the ground and lay still.

For several heart-beats, he lay there, confused.

Then, the aura of fear that accompanied the Undertaker's firing procedures rippled over him several times...

Curious, Chris fidgeted around to get a better look, sending jolts of pain through his leg as he did so.

He saw Chester, running in the opposite direction of where he was lying. The lanky nerd was squeezing out shots from the Undertaker every few paces he ran. The Black King, for his part, was charging a beam of energy in his helmet, and largely ignoring the harmless shots that plinked ineffectually off his armor.

Then, the beam was fired, Chris followed it's trajectory, and saw it slam into the ground near Chester, who had thrown himself forward, and was narrowly missed by it.

Chris then saw his friend remain lying down, and glance over at him. Discretely, Chris waved at him, to show that he was alright.

Then, he noticed another beam forming in the Black King's helmet.

Against his better judgment, he shouted at Chester as loudly as he could,

"LOOK OUT!"

Chester looked up, and glanced over at him, confused. Chris had got his attention, but little else.

Chris tried pointing at the Black King, but Chester still didn't seem to get it.

Finally, an exasperated Chester stood up, and called,

"WHAT?"

Chris, now extremely worried about the beam attack, shouted,

"IT'SABEAM ATTACK!"

Simultaneously, the Black King fired.

Chester only had time to turn and look at the Black King for a second, before the beam hit him dead-on.

The entire hill erupted in a shower of dirt and ruble.

For a second, it seemed to Chris that everything was still. He desperately scoured the dust cloud for any traces of life. Dimly, he somehow knew that nothing could survive a direct hit from that, but he just couldn't acknowledge that they had failed this badly, that he was injured, that Evan was...missing somewhere?...that Chester was...was... _gone_.

As the seconds passed, and the dust cleared, it became increasingly apparent that Chester had not avoided the blast through some form of heroic agility, or took it head on and walked it off. Though he couldn't see very well from where he lay, even he could tell that nothing stirred from the crater where his friend once stood.

As Chris finally realized that his friend was well and truly gone, the Black King roared his triumph...

 **A/N: ... Well damn, he ded.**

 **To those familiar with Homestuck, you probably know by now that death...isn't exactly as big of an obstacle as one might think. Particularly if a certain kind of stone slab is lying around somewhere...**

 **Also, I am beginning to set up shipping for our...mentally unstable cast's inevitable arrival in the Alpha Kids session. Personally, I have to say, some of the ships are...Rather Unorthodox...and I wouldn't have it any other way. So, place your bets now, on Who's going to be snogging who.**

 **Edit: Oops...did I say Alpha session? Dang, I meant beta session...disregard the previous statement please.**


	21. Chapter 20

_**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the three week delay. I was camping, and, funny thing, this chapter was, like, 90% done before I left, and I intended to have it out then, but, time and fate conspired against me, so, here it is, three weeks later than normal. I mostly just powered through the last part of it today. As always, I own nothing, save the OC's and the Winnebago, (Because, after all, this is the only homestuck story with a majjyk Winnebago, how's that for originality?).**_

 _ **And, please, review. It really helps to keep me going, and every one is read and appreciated.**_

 _ **Finally, I hope you enjoy.**_

Upon Skaia's surface...

As Evan charged his injured foe, a light fog had begun to slowly roll over the cratered and scarred landscape around him.

The Black King was still screaming and thrashing in agony, and Evan intended to use the opening Chester had given him to finish the job...Though, to be honest...he wasn't entirely certain on how to actually try and kill something the size of an apartment building. Still, he quashed those traitorous thoughts, he'd figure things out when he got to the enemy, not before.

Due to his injury, the Dark Monarch didn't even notice his approach, and Evan soon stood at the Black King's armored boots, gazing hatefully up at the imposing figure that could dimly be seen through the fog. This was the being who had taken the Winnebago from him...Evan was...he was...too angry for words, his whole body was shaking from the sheer fury and blood-lust he felt towards the Black King.

Glancing at the ornate, black boots, Evan hatched a plan. He would deal with his foe head-on. Literally.

Re-captchaloguing his sword, he began to aggressively scale the mammoth boot before him.

Due to the lack of sensors in the armor, or perhaps distracted by his injury, the Black King remained oblivious to the small figure scaling his right leg.

With murderous glee, Evan found that the elaborate decorative fixtures on the armor made for great climbing, and he quickly scaled the Leg-plates until he found himself on the side of the Knee-plate. Here, there was a torn gap in the armor, encrusted with dried blood.

' _It was likely here, that Chris found a weak-point,_ ' Evan guessed.

Then, another idea struck him, _'why should he wait until he got all the way to the top, to extract his vengeance?'_ Grinning maliciously beneath his helmet, Evan maneuvered himself so that he was standing on a protruding armor plate, then uncaptchalogued his chainsaw-sword, and stabbed straight into the gap before him.

Once again, the Black King roared in pain, though this time, the pain was brief, more like a bee-sting, compared to the torment he had experienced earlier. Still, it gave the Dark Monarch something to focus on, through his pain. One of his foes yet lived...

As the Black King's body thrashed, Evan dimly fought to maintain his hand-hold, and keep from being flung to the ground below. By the barest of margins, he held on, and soon the thrashing stopped.

Tightening his grip, and focusing on looking for a better area to ascend to, Evan completely failed to notice the tentacle that slowly maneuvered itself behind him...

With a precise strike, Evan was knocked flying into the distance.

It's mind fuzzy, The Black King tried to hit the flying boy with a lazer. However, the fog, and the small size of the target, made precise aiming nigh-impossible. Thus the Black King instead contented himself with indiscriminately charring the surrounding area with blast after blast of raw energy.

Eventually, after he had worn out the firing coils inside his armor, and the focusing lens in his helmet was literally glowing and warped from the intense volley of fire, the Dark Monarch concluded that he had avenged his wounded pride enough. He really needed to get this arm of his looked at.

Instinctively, he reached for the communicator on his left wrist, only to remember that his other arm was no longer there. After several moments of awkward fumbling, he managed to activate the communicator with a sharp outcrop on his helmet. Finished with that, he took a few moments to survey his handiwork. The entire valley where the battle took place was nearly unrecognizable. Though the fog that was now covering most of the area hid the destruction from view, the few gaps in the fog revealed a scene of pure devastation. His beams had torn away the very soil and rock, charring and melting the ground beneath. Hills had been obliterated, dirt paths had been erased, and the entire tile they were fighting in looked like it had endured several months worth of orbital bombardment. In short, he felt it a fitting testament to his vast and royal power.

Noticing that his communicator had lit up with an acknowledgment signal, he put aside his musings for the time being. There was a shuttle coming to retrieve him, and, being reasonably satisfied that the area was purged of his foes, the Black King hesitantly used one of the thorns on his helmet to pry off a small, gold ring from his left hand...

A flash of light engulfed the field of battle, and the menacing dark silhouette that dominated it was gone...

Groaning, Evan slowly opened his eyes.

He was in a crater of some sort. He dimly remembered climbing the armor of his enemy...then...nothing.

'Hmmm', he pondered, ignoring the dull aching in his bones. Nothing was broken. He'd had more than enough broken bones back in the day to remember what one felt like. Regardless, there was still the issue of how he got in this crater.

Slowly, he stumbled to his knees, and lifted himself out of the hole.

Surveying the area revealed nothing, as the fog that had previously arrived, had become far more heavy and dense... _'Which made any survey of the area impossible,'_ Evan grumbled.

More distressingly, when he looked in the direction of the Black King, Evan saw nothing. Even with the smoke, his opponent could still be visible as a silhouette through the smoke, towering over the valley like some ancient god of war. Now though, the silhouette was gone, and that angered Evan.

 _'No.'_

He looked further, he still couldn't see it,

 _'NO.'_

Desperately searching, he confirmed that the Black King was definitely gone.

"GOD DAMMIT!" he cried, slamming his fists onto the ground.

Slowly and shakily, he stood, and began to think logically about the situation.

 _'The Black King is injured,...therefore...he should...have fled the field,_ _ **(Like the coward he is)**_ _, to seek medical attention',_ Evan concluded, shaking at his fury of being cheated. The murderer of the Winnebago had gotten away. And on his watch...

 _'Still though',_ he wondered, _'how in the hell could something of that size possibly escape so quietly and quickly'_.

Cautiously, in-case his foe hadn't yet fled, Evan began to slowly shuffle across the desolate area, looking for Chris and Chester.

Soon, his fury had burnt itself out. In it's place came a more hollow, resigned anger. Under his breath, he cursed. This day had turned out to be a disaster. The Black King had swatted them around for a while, and, just as they had injured it, the damned coward had fled. To top things off, the Winnebago was gone. Just as it had mysteriously survived seemingly total destruction, and returned itself to him, it had been destroyed again.

As always, Evan blamed himself. His father had long ago taught him that it was futile to place any responsibility on others, as they would inevitably fail. Thus, Evan was raised to always rely on himself no matter what.

This had served him well for much of his life. However, when he met Chester and Chris over the internet, so long ago, things began to change. After many years of knowing them, Evan finally began to delegate some tasks to Chester (as Chris proved...unreliable), and was pleasantly surprised when Chester actually came through on his end, time and time again.

Still though, in this particular instance, he had personally made all of the decisions pertaining to hunting the Black King, thus, Evan found himself at fault for this mess.

Gazing around, he noticed that much of the visible area had been blasted and charred beyond recognition during the battle.

Chris might have been upset at the desolation of the pretty scenery, while Chester might have come up with some insightful statement, comparing the destruction before him to the futility of war, or some such nonsense. For his part, Evan simply did not care in the slightest. The only useful observation he made was that some sections of the ground seemed to still be in a semi-molten state. Not wanting to risk setting his boots on fire, Evan avoided the glowing sections of ground.

After yet more aimless wandering in the gray and foggy wasteland, Evan thought he saw something moving up ahead...

Uncaptchaloging his sword in anticipation, eager for something to help take his mind off things, he crept forward. As he crept closer, he noticed that the silhouette before him was quite short. It appeared to be shaking violently, and sitting down.

Soon, he was close enough to reach out and stab it, while the thing still didn't appear to notice him. Although, at this range, it looked familiar...

"Chris?" Evan called, ready to commence stabbing should the figure fail to respond with 'Evan?'.

To it's credit, the figure stopped shaking, and slowly turned in his direction. Evan gave it the benefit of the doubt, and didn't fry it on the spot with his flame-glove.

"...Evan?", the figure shakily asked, in a voice that could only belong to Chris.

Evan lowered his chainsaw-sword, and muttered, in the most emotionless voice he could muster,

"Right, now that you're here, we just need to pick up Chester, and figure out what to do next," Growling in frustration, he thrust his chainsaw-sword into the ground, and continued, "This whole damn plan has just been one huge mess, and now we've lost our only means of getting off this damn rock,"

Chris meanwhile, had stiffened up when Evan mentioned Chester.

The young lad had also assumed that Evan had...fallen, as well, so when Evan had shown up, Chris wanted to just jump up, and hug him forever... Or, rather, he _would_ , if he could actually stand...and if Evan wouldn't have immediately stabbed him if he tried.

After a few seconds passed, Evan noticed Chris's lack of attention, and gruffly asked,

"Well, where's Chester? Did you see him at all, before this damnable fog went up?"

Chris broke down into shaking again, and shakily managed to whimper out,

"he...he...he' 'sgone...",

Initially, Evan merely assumed that Chris was over-reacting, like he had done on nearly every other occasion ever. But, even on that one time Chester got rushed to the hospital a few years back, Chris wasn't this shaken up and devastated.

Despite his skepticism, there was a small part of him, that suggested that, perhaps, the worst had come to pass...

Seeing his inaction, Chris lifted a shaking hand, and pointed into the fog.

After a few moments of hesitation, Evan grumbled, "Stay here,", and set off, dreading what he might find...

At first, he saw nothing of interest, though, that was likely due to the bloody fog that covered the entire area. Cursing, Evan continued to make his way forwards, keeping his sword at the ready, out of instinct more than anything else. Then, he suddenly stumbled upon a crater, and nearly fell in.

Windmilling his arms, he barely managed to keep his balance on the lip of the crater. Satisfied that he had a firm foothold, Evan looked in.

His mind froze.

The crater wasn't very big, though it was quite molten and glassy. At the bottom of it though, lay Chester's crumpled form. Instantly recognizable due to his awful fashion sense.

Though Evan already knew that Chester likely would never get up again, he still jumped to the bottom of the small hole, and began shaking his friend.

"GET UP!" He bellowed, desperately thrashing the smaller kid by the shoulders.

"GOD DAMMIT CHESTER! WE HAVE SHIT TO DO! QUIT LYING AROUND!" he continued, unable to comprehend that the only person he deemed reliable, the only person who he trusted to handle planning and logistics, one of two people who he'd trust with his life was gone.

'And it, like the Winnebago, on my command,' Evan realized, dropping the lifeless body, and sinking to the ground.

Normally, he had neither the time or patience for things like "feelings" or "moping", but in this case, he felt like he could make a small exception. He had just lost his guardian and his friend in one day. Evan wanted to just curl up and...not cry. Evan might have allowed himself to be depressed for a brief moment, but he would never. Under any circumstances. Cry. That was a thing that girly-men, (other people) did.

As he kneeled in the crater, lost in self-recrimination and misery, his pesterchum beeped...

Uncaptchaloging his computer, Evan was rather bewildered as-to who would be messaging him. Unfolding his laptop, he growled, "What the hell do you want Chris?"

However, it was not IncoporealCriticist who was identified by pesterchum as the message sender...

- **ErrOR0124nOtFounD[! ]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

$#: Greetings Evan.

EE: Who the hell are you, I feel like I remember you from somewhere...

^&: That is not important.

EE: Wait, I remember...

EE: YOURE THAT DAMN COMMIE THAT WAS BOTHERING ME A FEW MONTHS BACK!

(#: While I still do not understand this "commie" term, I confess to having contacted you earlier in your timeline.

EE: What the hell do you want, you damn Marxist? I'm ...busy.

!*: Oh yes, I can tell. One player dead, another crippled. An...auspicious start...

EE: ...Player?

EE: …

EE: Wait a minute... how do you know that...ARE YOU A COMMIE SPY!?

%&: I am certainly not a spy.

#$: Consider me...an... interested party, that is willing to provide assistance.

EE: Unless you have a majjyk defibrillator that can bring back the dead, I doubt you can help.

#: Well...I may be of some assistance in that regard...

EE: There actually is a majjyk defibrillator?

EE: YES!

EE: … I mean...what's the catch?

!*: No. There is no magic defibrillator.

EE: Well why are you talking to me then?

#$: …

&%: What I meant to say, was that there are...other ways of bringing slain players to life.

EE: hmmm... continue...

^&: There are currently two options available to you.

EE: What are they?

%%: Well, you could first start by simply kissing the slain player, and that would...

EE: NO

#$: But...

EE: NO NO NO

EE: Not even for Chester.

EE: NO!

$%: Well...

&%: Fine. You are most fortunate that another way is still open to you.

EE: I'll take that one.

! : ...Of course.

&*: The second way, involves traveling to the player's designated planet.

#: The, "Land of Glass and Pillars", if I am not mistaken.

EE: Uhuh.

#$: The player's remains must then be placed upon his quest bed, and...

&%: Let us simply say that it will sort itself out from there.

EE: Got it.

EE: One question though,

#$: Of course.

EE: What's a quest bed?

^#: The quest bed is a stone slab engraved with the player's aspect symbol. In this case, **Space**.

EE: Uhuh.

#%: Do you wish for a simplified version?

EE: Yes please.

!*: When you arrive on the planet, look for a tall stone pillar.

EE: ok.

#&: Upon it, will be a stone bed. Place the body upon it, and the process shall begin.

EE: Right.

EE: …

%^: …

(}: Well? Is there...something else you need?

EE: Errr... I just realized, We don't have any means to get to space.

%: Oh, that.

!*: Something tells me that will not remain to be a problem for long.

EE: What?

- **ErRoR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

And thus, ended one of the strangest conversations Evan had ever had.

For several moments, he just sat there, computer siting on Chester's body, while he tried to process the information. As far as he could tell, he had to get Chester's body to a...stone bed? On Chester's planet, in order for his friend to come back to life.

…According to what the commie spy said, anyway. Normally, Evan would just ignore the spy, but in this case, he decided to give the elusive fellow the benefit of the doubt.

Should the spy deceive him however, well... the Black King wouldn't be the only person who would have an agonizing death...

With still no solutions to his transportation problem, Evan decided to at least get Chester's body out of the hole, and see where things went from there. Captchaloguing his laptop, he picked up Chester, and carried him out of the crater, and back to where he thought he had left Chris.

As he walked, Evan continued to process these new events. If everything went well, then, they would have Chester back. The first thing Evan was going to do when Chester woke up was to... give him a very short hug. Evan didn't give hugs, nor was he comfortable with them, but he figured he would make an exception.

Hmmm... he was making a lot of exceptions recently, he noted.

"Damn game." Evan grumbled.

Returning to his train of thought, Evan decided that the second thing he was going to do, was to humiliate Chester for getting killed. Even Chris had managed to survive the battle, and yet, Chester had amazingly managed to get offed, despite being the furthest combatant at all times. That took real skill to get knocked-off in such a pathetic manner.

Still though, for the most part, Evan felt ecstatic, the loss of the Winnebago forgotten temporarily.

Soon, he saw Chris, still slumped where he had been left. Walking over, Evan dumped the body beside him, and sat down.

When Chris nearly collapsed from shock, upon seeing his dead friend suddenly plonked down beside him, Evan realized that perhaps, he could have handled the situation a bit better.

Impatiently cutting through the other boy's blubbering, Evan grumbled, "Chris, calm down, it's okay. Some...fellow on pesterchum told me how we can get Chester back,"

Though Chris noticeably began paying attention when Evan mentioned someone from pesterchum, it was only when Chris heard about bringing Chester back, when he stopped his incessant blubbering, and instead, began cheering. Much to Evan's irritation.

Though, Evan noted, Chris seemed to perk up just as the subject of "assistance" via a stranger from pesterchum came up...hmmm...

Still, Chris soon after began firing off questions a-mile-a-minute, so Evan sighed and muttered for the smaller kid to be quiet. Chris immediately complied, though he was still ecstatic over the whole thing.

Then, Evan began to explain,

"Right, so, a fellow messaged me on pesterchum on how we can get Chester back."

"Forreal? Thatssowonderfullohmygoodness!" Chris immediately interrupted.

Annoyed, but not surprised, Evan simply lightly prodded him with the Chainsaw-sword, until Chris trailed off in silence.

"Yes, I'm being serious, now then, what we have to do is simply get his body to his planet and put it on a...stone bed...or something."

"That'sit? Letsgorightnowthen!" Chris declared, trying to sit up, before groaning and slumping backwards.

A wave of loss once again washed over Evan, as he remembered why they couldn't leave right now. Still, he was in public now, so all displays of anything other than burning hatred for communists would need to wait.

"Well Chris, we can't. The Winnebago...it's..." he trailed off. Evan was managing to bottle everything up quite well, but talking about the Winnebago was...a little too much to ask of him right then and there.

Chris, for his part, realized what had happened and (wisely) changed subjects, "Sodoyou haveany otherplansto...leave..." he asked,

"Well, that's the thing," Evan began, not noticing the subtle green glow that briefly flashed through the fog...

Standing up, Evan began to pace around. ' _Chris was right_ ,' he thought, ' _it's up to me (as always), I need figure something out... perhaps I can try thinking outside the box...whatever the hell that means...'_ he remarked, realizing that the whole "thinking" business was a lot harder than Chester made it seem. He missed dumping the planning parts of things on Chester. It made things so much easier.

Turning around, he noticed something in his peripheral vision, and his combat instincts immediately kicked in.

Continuing to pace as normal, to ensure whatever he saw wouldn't be aware it was spotted, Evan began trying to get a better look at it, while idly fingering the sword that was currently still in it's holster.

"Don't Move,", he quietly hissed at Chris.

Dimly, he could make out a vague rectangular object in the fog.

' _What the hell?_ ' he thought, ' _this thing didn't look like an enemy...or even a living creature for that matter, though he could swear that it was not there before.._.'

Cautiously, Evan approached the thing, slowly shuffling around to the right as he did so, trying to flank whatever it was.

Yet, it sat there, and did nothing.

Even as he got so close that there was no way it couldn't hear him, the thing...or object... continued to remain stationary.

Finally, Evan got close enough to one side of the rectangular...thing, to be able to make out what it was. At first, he stared at it in confusion. It was just a bunch of metal...

Then, as the fog parted slightly, Evan beheld the full picture.

Before him, sat the Winnebago, as crappy and run-down as his earliest memories of it.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Evan reached out and touched it.

When it didn't disappear, or vanish, he felt the only other thing that was weighing on his mind fade away. At this point, he didn't care in the slightest about it's miraculous appearance. After all, this wasn't the first time the thing had escaped certain death.

Gently rubbing the it's side, Evan gently murmured, "You've got to stop doing this stuff to me,".

Then, he shouted for Chris to grab Chester and get over here.

As a few moments passed, he remembered that Chris couldn't walk. While normally, he wouldn't have tolerated such an excuse and simply told Chris to walk it off, or be left on the planet, he simply didn't have the time to put up with Chris's charades, so he set off after him.

Returning, he simply grabbed a protesting Chris, and threw him over his shoulder. Looking back at Chester's body, Evan decided to save time, and simply grabbed the body by the leg, and dragged it behind him.

Chris's protests and yowls of pain soon stopped when they arrived at the Winnebago.

For once, for a few wonderful seconds, the smaller kid had fallen silent...Only to begin congratulating Evan on fixing the Winnebago, and asking how he did it.

Opening the door, Evan simply grunted, "Sburb Majjyks," and unceremoniously dumped Chris on one of the dining room couches.

Evan was then left with the decision of what to do with Chester's body. Mercifully, it hadn't yet begun to smell, so Evan simply stuffed it into the closet-sized bathroom, and left it to bounce around in there during the voyage.

Walking to the driver's seat, he barked at Chris to buckle up, which, after much floundering, the small youth succeeded in doing.

Crashing back in the driver's seat, Evan simply relaxed for a few seconds, simply happy to be back in his home. Then, with all the practiced efficiency of one who has preformed the task a thousand times, he uncaptchalogued the keys, stuck them in the ignition, and brought the machine to life.

Idly eying the various gauges he had put in to monitor the newly-added engines, he noticed absolutely no problems or anything out of the ordinary.

Ideally, he would have given the camper a thorough examination before take-off, to confirm the lack of any damage or problems that could potentially prove fatal upon re-entry, but he simply found himself doubting that sburb (Or whatever was bringing his camper back to life time and time again) would bother to bring it back, only to leave some crippling flaw somewhere in it's mechanical innards.

Besides, all the gauges showed nothing out of the ordinary, and he was kinda pressed for time. Despite the mystery spy's assurances about this so-called "quest bed", Evan had no way of knowing if it would work on someone that had been dead for a while, and he certainly didn't plan on finding out by arriving too late.

Thus, he slowly fired up the wing-mounted engines, and eased the Winnebago through it's "warm-up" procedures, and into the sky. In-between scanning his instruments and guiding the machine through the air, he snuck a glance backwards, and, judging from the lack of cries and thumping back in the living area, it seemed that Chris was firmly strapped in.

Nodding his head, Evan sent the camper through several experimental circles over the area, mostly to check for problems, and, seeing nothing wrong, began to aim the Winnebago into the sky, and prepared to break orbit.

Absentmindedly, he scanned the area beneath him for traces of the Black King, and, to his annoyance, found no trace of the gargantuan figure.

Again, he thought, _'How the hell could something that big get away unseen?'_

Still, if the Black King was gone, then that meant there was nothing left for them there. Vowing to return, Evan blasted the engines, and sent the Winnebago into space.

XXXXX

Once they broke orbit, and were safely in space, Evan aimed towards the general direction of Chester's planet, where the small, white orb could be dimly seen, and shot off towards it.

This time, having traveled through space several times, Evan knew how to safely maneuver, so he sped the Winnebago up, to speeds that it had never before hit in space. The inertia was pushing him into the seat, but the resulting speed was more than worth it.

From behind, he could hear Chris making excited burbling noises, as the youth was quite excited to experience "That thing that happens to all the astronauts". Rolling his eyes, Evan really wanted to shake the camper to bug Chris, but at this speed, he wasn't willing to risk it. Plus they had somewhere to be, and time wasn't on their side.

While their high speed prevented turns or maneuvers, it soon paid off by allowing them to reach Chester's planet in an unprecedentedly fast amount of time. The white ball that was Chester's planet was already floating serenely before them, whilst Skaia had grown to be a small, blue golf-ball in the rear-view mirrors.

Evan was frankly astounded as to just how fast they had went. They had went from Skaia to the Land of Glass and Pillars, in less then a sixth of the original time. Then again, their speed soon proved to be a problem as Evan realized they had to somehow stop without crashing into the planet by accident.

Springing into action, he rotated the engine pods around, so they were now pointing forward, and activated them, trying to slow down the Winnebago.

It barely helped.

The Winnebago continued on it's course, straight into the planet, despite Evan's best attempts to stop it. The engines, with their miniscule output, just didn't have enough time to stop the camper before it hit the planet.

Then, Evan had an idea.

Instead of trying to stop the Winnebago, he instead pulled up on the steering mechanism, and very slowly, brought the machine upwards.

With great effort, the machine slowly moved into the planet's gravity well.

The entire frame shook and rattled from the immense forces acting on it, as Evan guided the Winnebago through the gravity well. Yet, he did not aim at the planet, itself, instead, he sent the camper over it, using the gravity well's own power, to slow the Winnebago down.

Though the machine creaked and groaned, it's speed was soon lowered to a level that he found manageable.

Twisting the engine pods back around, he began to circle the planet, trying to get a feel for their current speed, before attempting to go planetside.

After the third pass, Evan decided that he felt confident enough to attempt atmospheric entry.

With a curt nudge of the controls, the Winnebago turned towards the surface of the sparkling planet, and let gravity pull it towards the surface.

As the craft begun to shake and heat up, Evan observed that this landing was much the same as the first time he had touched down upon Chester's world, so, he felt a bit better as to the condition of the Winnebago.

Chris's jittery groans could be heard from behind, but Evan simply ignored him. Chris had a seat-belt back there...probably.

Soon, the Winnebago had broken through the cloud layer that surrounded the planet, and Evan found himself once again looking over a sea of glittering dust, occasionally broken up by a jagged crystalline tower every so often. While many might have declared this vista to be "beautiful", Evan, once again, didn't care, and simply grunted.

' _Now then...a stone bed...'_ he mused, scanning the landscape around him, as he slowed the Winnebago down to aid in his search.

Seeing nothing resembling a "Tall stone pillar", Evan sped up, and moved on to a different area.

As he flew, he swiftly grew bored of the unchanging landscape around him.

Other than the mountain where Chester's house was located, the rest of the planet seemed to consist of nothing but sparkling dunes, and the occasional crystal spire. This was why, when a large hill appeared on the horizon, it immediately caught his attention.

Just as the commie spy had said, upon the hill, stood a large, black, monolithic pillar of stone. The fact that it wasn't sparkling, like everything else upon this damned planet, was reason enough for Evan to notice it instantly.

Hopefully muttering things under his breath, Evan turned the camper, and glided towards the target.

As he approached, he noticed a spiral ramp, running around the circumference of the stone tower, ascending upwards.

Normally, he would have landed the Winnebago at the top, and saved himself a climb, but seeing little room on the flat top of the tower, Evan simply gave an annoyed sigh, and brought the Winnebago for a landing at the bottom of the tower.

The landing was quite bumpy, prompting groans from Chris, but apart from that, the Winnebago seemed fine, so Evan judged it a successful flight.

Unbuckling himself, Evan deftly exited the seat, and walked into the back. Chris was sprawled on one of the couches, and waved to Evan as he walked by.

Evan simply said,

"We're here, I'll grab Chester and get this started, can you walk?"

Chris winced and groaned, "noIthink something'sbroken,"

Annoyed, Evan walked up to him, and said, "Don't be a baby, you don't have any broken bones,", While investigating Chris for broken bones.

Soon enough, Chris was hollering in agony, and Evan was forced to say,

"Okay then, you do have broken bones."

Turning to the bathroom, he added, gently this time, "I'll deal with Chester, then, I'll get you patched up, okay?"

"Okay," Chris groaned.

Opening the bathroom, Evan found Chester's body where he had left it, only _slightly_ more worse for wear. Lugging it over his shoulder, Evan carried it past a distraught Chris, and out the door.

Outside, he found the climate of Chester's planet rather pleasing, but he still refused to remove his gas-mask. Glancing around, he saw the beginnings of the ramp, carved out of the strange, black, stone, and looked up.

Glancing at his friend's helmeted face, Evan muttered,

"Friends or not, there is no way I'm carrying you up all that."

That said, he lowered the body to the ground, grabbed Chester's arm, and began to drag the body behind him.

After much uneventful climbing, (and an incident where Chester slipped out of his grip and nearly fell off the tower,) Evan stood at the summit. The tower's top was planed smooth, and quite small. It was completely barren, save for a stone slab that rested at it's center. Upon it,was stenciled a gray symbol, which reminded Evan of a buzz-saw.

The entire area had an...ancient and powerful feeling to it, and, were he anyone else, he would have been very slow and quiet to avoid violating the quiet and tranquility of this place.

Evan however, was no such person.

Grunting, he unceremoniously dumped Chester in the rough center of the slab, took a few steps back, and waited.

At first, nothing happened, and, just as he was beginning to wonder if he was lied to by the commie, a flash of green light took his attention.

Four small balls of green light had appeared over the rectangular slab, one at each corner, and began to float serenely up in the air.

At the same time, the wind that had been previously washing over the surrounding area had suddenly stopped, while the feeling of quiet, tranquil, dormant power that had previously saturated the monolith's top had changed, to an omnipresent feeling of cold empty vastness that made Evan shiver.

Whatever was going on here, he was no longer sure that he wanted to be a part of it...

Still though, he resolved, ' _For Chester or Chris, anything_ '.

As the orbs raised higher, Chester's body began to move, slowly lifting into the air, pulled by an unseen force.

Evan was beginning to be uncomfortably reminded of "The Poltergeist Exorcist", and various other spoopy movies sent to him by Chris.

As the orbs burned brighter, Chester's body began to glow as well.

Soon, while the feeling of cold emptiness washed over the entire planet, causing even the most dim-witted of creatures to turn towards the tower, the green light increased to a point where Evan could no longer see what was happening.

Rather than damage his eyes trying to get a peek, Evan simply grunted, happy the slab was doing it's thing, turned around, sat down, closed his eyes, and did his best to ignore the unnatural feelings washing over him.

Elsewhere, upon a golden moon, inside a still occupied tower, a bright green light manifested, the tower's sleeping occupant beginning to shine with an ethereal green glow...

Upon the stone tower, Evan was still sitting, growing somewhat bored with the lack of anything happening, while the uneasy feelings and light continued to build to unbearable levels, until they reached a crescendo when a blinding flare of white erupted from the tower, and everything became still for a few heart-beats.

Just like that, the lights vanished, and the wind came back.

Nervous to turn around, Evan nearly jumped out of his skin and roasted the entire tower with his glove, when a single sentence boomed through his mind, and through the mind of every living creature upon the planet.

 **"** **ARISE, MAGE OF SPACE"**

Slowly, assuming that...whatever it was...was over, Evan turned around, to find Chester sitting up on the stone slab.

Noticing Evan, the other boy looked at him, and they both stared at each other for a moment, before Evan laughed, and said,

"What the hell are you wearing?"

XXXXX

Elsewhere upon the land of Glass and Pillars, a blue sprite sat behind the monitor of his player's home computer...

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

IL: Ehrm... eet is as youh said, Cheehster has ahsended...

 _#$: Excellent. Everything continues as planned._

 _$(: Once again, I would like to thank you for your cooperation, Commander._

IL: Ah dont knoow. Eet fheels wrohng toh go beehind hes back likee dees.

 _#%: I fully understand and sympathize with you, but you and I both know there is no alternative. We both know what is ultimately at stake here. No individual session can survive on it's own._

 _#$: Still, you only have one last part to play in this._

 _7 &: Tricking a space and mage player will be hard, but it must be done. No loose ends can be left. Not after all the work I have put into this gambit._

 _#: At first, as his mind buckles, trying to comprehend the vast depths of information his class has given him, he will be of little threat to the ultimate plan._

 _& ^: But he will inevitably learn of the genesis frog, and it's role in birthing a new universe. _

_# : He will inevitably try to waste time and resources in trying to breed a new universe and, while that is the technical goal of a fertile session, that is not what we are trying to accomplish here_

IL: ...Hwat do youh need meh ter do?

 _&!: You are a sprite, knowledgeable and well-versed in Sburb's cryptic mechanics, If you tell him to ignore the genesis frog, and focus upon slaying the Black King, as well as pushing the other players to achieve god-tier, they would see no reason not to listen to your "wise counsel"._

IL: Ah...Ah...Ah'll do eeet.

 _ &: Splendid._

- **ErroR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

The sprite pressed a few more keys...

 **\- CONVERSATION DELETED -**

 ** _A/N: ... Well then, the plot thickens... Dun Dun Dun!_**

 ** _Anywho, while I can't promise weekly updates, what with school and all, I will at least try to stick to a 1.5 week update schedule. Make no mistake, this story is not dead, and I have big plans for the future of it. until then, thank you for reading, please review, and goodbye till' next time._**


	22. Chapter 21

_**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back!**_

 _ **Anywho, there is nothing really new to report on, as always, I own nothing (Besides the three kids and the Winnebago,)**_

 _ **Also, I noticed in the comments there was some confusion over the error player, and I would like to mention that the part where the error text wasn't italicized wasn't meant to indicate a different character, it was simply a mistake on my part. So, once again, there is only one error player, and...we will be seeing them in person...again...soon...**_

 _ **Once again, I will now proceed to beg for reviews,**_

 _ **Finally, I hope you guys enjoy.**_

Upon a land of Glass and Pillars,

For a few moments, Evan just stood there, watching Chester clutch his head and groan. After a few awkward moments, Evan took the time to...further study Chester's new duds. Somehow, the majjyk green light had swapped Chester's awful helmet and coat and scarf...thing, that he wore, and replaced it with something that was even more of an affront to fashion and well-dressed fellows everywhere.

Chester now had a black...robe...thing, that had two triangular coat-tails (kinda like a penguin) and a hood. The robe thing itself was quite long and went down to Chester's knees. It managed to simultaneously be both plain and ornate. A faint silver trim coated the edges and sleeves of the robe. In the center, emblazoned in dark gray and white, was the same spiky symbol that was on the slab. Underneath the robes, some form of black pants could be seen. The ridiculous ensemble was made complete by...red flat bottomed sneakers.

Barely suppressing a grin, Evan mentally declared that this...outfit, was, without doubt, the most hideous thing that he had ever laid eyes on.

As Chester's sudden migraine continued, Evan grew somewhat concerned, and asked,

"You okay?"

Chester sat up, clutching his head, and muttered, "I've been better,"

Taking a look around, he continued, "...hey. Evan. What happened?"

Evan grew gloomier at the unpleasant recollections, and said, "Well, ...err...the Black King got away...and...well...you died..." he finished quickly,

Chester nodded slowly,

Evan grew confused, "Wait? You're not going to deny being dead? Or start asking questions about how you're back?"

Sighing, and clutching at his head, Chester slowly murmured, "Well, I...I'm not sure...I think I...I don't remember... But. It's like I knew somehow...when I woke up that is. That I was dead." Continuing, he said, "I don't know how to explain it. Evan. But... It's like I … I know things now. Lots of things...Like about the game...and about objects... and how things work..."

Evan just stared at him for a moment, "I don't get it." he said,

"Me neither. Evan" Chester replied,

For a few moments, they were quiet, before Evan said, "Still though, what the hell is with that dress you're wearing?"

"It's not a dress." Chester whined, "I think it's cool,"

"Of course _you_ would," Evan guffawed,

"It's like...pajamas...or something" Chester protested,

"Nah, it's a dress."

"Screw you. Evan."

"Sure" Evan replied, before glancing down the pillar, and muttering, "Anyway, We should probably head back, Chris has probably chewed off his arms in worry by now."

"Yeah." Chester agreed, holding back a faint smile.

As they set off down the steep ramp, occasionally stopping due to Chester's head, both kids were grinning. Everything was going to be alright.

When they reached the bottom, Evan let out a sigh of relief to see that the Winnebago was unharmed and still where he had left it. Chester, meanwhile, simply went ahead, opened the door and hopped in.

Inside, he found Chris, sprawled over a couch, staring at the ceiling in boredom. Seeing Chester enter, Chris immediately squeed in happiness, and leapt off the couch to hug him...Only to remember that most of his bones were broken...which resulted in Chris face-planting on the carpet, and groaning.

Bemused, Chester said, "Hey Chris."

Chris, undeterred by the agony of his broken ribcage, let loose a flood of words onto Chester, "ohmygodohmygod!you'reokay!THISISTHEGREATESTTHINGEVER!Ifeelsohappy! Iwasworriedit wouldn'tworkbutthenit didwork! Thatguyonpesterchumsureknows histhing."

As he continued rambling, Chester noticed a...point of interest in Chris's monologue.

"Woah." He said, "Back up a bit. What did you say about a guy on pesterchum?"

Beginning to run out of breath, the exuberant Chris calmed down a bit, spent a... _suspicious_ length of time composing his thoughts, and answered, "Well...Evansaidhetalkedto someoneonpesterchumwho suggestedtobringyouto thestonebed tobringyouback..."

Chester quietly mused over what Chris had said, and, besides the identity of the mystery user (who he had a sinking feeling of...already being _acquainted_ with) found nothing suspicious about the statement.

One curious thing he noted, was that Chris was continuing to talk very fast, which was something the young lad only did when overreacting or...being deceitful... ' _Still though_ ,' Chester reasoned, ' _What could Chris possibly have to conceal?_ '

As Evan entered the camper, Chester simply decided to chalk it up to Chris over-reacting, after a very traumatic experience.

Then, another intense jolt of pain shot through his head, and he felt himself growing woozy, so he moved to take a seat at the table, scooting over to allow Evan to sit beside him, since Chris was previously hogging the other couch.

Only then, as Chris dragged himself back to the table, did the kleptomaniac notice Chester's new outfit.

"Hey,whendidyou getthat?" He asked,

Focusing on the migraine, Chester automatically blurted out, "It is the standard garb of a god-tier mage of space."

For a few seconds, everyone sat still, before a bewildered Evan asked, "What?"

An...unsettled Chester muttered, "I...I don't know how I knew that..."

This was beginning to remind him of Sburb's tampering with his mind, back in that strange room with all the babies...Chester did not like where this was going.

As another jolt of pain surged through his head, he felt a vague flicker, at the furthest corners of his consciousness. Already having been... _introduced,_ to Sburb's mental "guidance", Chester was beginning to develop a sinking feeling about the source of his head-splitting pain...

Against his better judgment, he...focused? on the part of his mind where he had felt the... stirrings. For a few moments, there was nothing, and he allowed himself a small measure of comfort in the thought that, maybe, just maybe, this wasn't some eldritch power possessing his mind, and instead, a simple migraine that could be expunged with an aspirin or two.

But then, there it was again. Dimly, he felt... something. Though he had only the vaguest guess as to what it actually was, he now knew that something... fishy was going on in his mind.

As he continued to focus on his mind, he only dimly noticed as Chris asked, "Whatsagodtier?"

Once again, he automatically responded, without thinking, "The God-Tiers are a series of the highest levels of power available to a player of Sburb. Ascending to God-Tier status grants a player total. nigh god like mastery of their aspect and class."

Chester didn't notice his own outburst, until he finally noticed the questioning stares Evan and Chris were shooting him.

Glancing at them, annoyed, he snapped, "What?"

"You just said some strange stuff again," Evan explained.

This, got Chester's attention. It seemed, that whenever he was distracted, his subconscious would take over and answer questions and stuff. That was all fine and dandy, but what Chester really wanted, was for the stuff in his head to actually make itself accessible to him, so that he could actually make use of this "God-tier class knowledge"...wait a second, how did he know what that was?

Mentally, he smirked. He had figured it out. At the moment (As far as he knew), the strange knowledge in his head sat dormant and inert...until he wasn't paying attention to it, and it was needed to answer a question or solve a problem.

Deciding to experiment, Chester sat up, still clutching his aching head, cleared his mind, (so that, _hopefully_ the strange elements of his mind would do their thing,) and loudly proclaimed to all assembled,

"I am having migraines right now because..." he paused, waiting...and there it was! Just like in the strange room before, alien thoughts slithered through his brain, and he knew what to say, "a human mind is grossly unprepared to absorb the burden of a mage of space. which is to say all knowledge of space. matter. and reality."

Judging by the expressions on Evan and Chris's faces, they were as confused as he was.

Nudging Evan so he could get out of the booth, Chester quickly muttered, "Sorry guys. I...need to be excused. Give me a bit to sort all this out."

Evan asked, "Are you okay?"

Chester said, "I...I think so. Like the...strange knowledge said. I'm...absorbing? Lots of knowledge and it's hurting my head."

Evan repeated, "Are you okay?"

"I...hope so." he replied,

Evan nodded and moved out, letting Chester get free of the table.

As he staggered over to the bathroom at the back, Chester heard Chris call,

"You'llbeok!Youcameback fromthedead!thisshouldbeA-okay!"

Somehow, Chris's endless optimism managed to cheer him up a bit...before another pang of head-splitting pain came, causing Chester to seize up, and curse under his breath.

Staggering into the small, cramped cubicle bathroom, Chester stood in front of the small sink, and gazed into the mirror.

He suddenly realized that this was the first time he'd looked into a mirror since his arrival in the session. First, he got a better look at his outfit. Despite what Evan said, Chester was really fond of it, he especially liked the way the intricate, yet plain silver trim caught the light.

Then, he noticed his face. Running a hand along his chin, he noted that he was as dirty as...as...something really dirty...he guessed. He also thought he could see something approximating a tan beginning to form. Though, he had never really had any experience with those, considering that any time he wasn't at school, he quite literally spent behind the screen of his computer.

With his mirror-gazing out of the way, he sat down on the closed toilet, head in his hands, and began to think. Putting together all the stuff he had said, Chester began to put together a...foggy picture of his current situation.

Firstly, he had died. That much was clear. Sadly, he had no recollection of the event. If there was one positive thing about dying, it was that one could finally see what happens after death. Only...that hadn't happened. And that made Chester very disappointed.

Then, it seemed that Evan had brought him back to life...somehow. Apparently some person on pesterchum was involved... but at this point, Chester had other problems on his plate to deal with. This fellow could wait.

Now, how he was brought back, was where things began to get interesting. It seemed that the process used, involved something called a "quest bed", which was a stone slab of some kind. Chester remembered waking up on it, so that part made sense.

The interesting part, was that when he "came back", he somehow changed clothes, and received a massive headache...with strange knowledge worming it's way into his head. Again.

Clearly, there was more at play here than simple resurrection.

The new things he knew corroborated that. Apparently, dying on a quest bed was a vital (though optional) part of a sburb player's quest. It resulted in the player ascending to "God-tier", which, as they all knew now, was some sort of super-powered upgrade to a normal sburb player. Chester, was apparently a "Mage of space", Mage being his class, and Space his aspect...He apparently knew that as well now...Great...

According to what his mind was telling him, a Mage of Space was a fairly passive class (whatever that meant), who's specialty was having an absolute knowledge of how the physical universe worked, as well as having extra information on the inner workings of sburb.

As all Space players, the mage would be able to manipulate and control the physical properties and attributes of material objects, but a mage's control would be clumsy and imprecise, compared to that of more "active" space players.

Sooo... He knew stuff. His superpower was being super-smart.

…

…

To be honest, Chester was pretty happy with that. Absolute knowledge sounded pretty good. And there was that other "manipulating stuff", whatever the hell that meant. Any further thoughts were interrupted by yet another jolt of pain. Clutching his head, Chester grit his teeth in frustration. It wasn't that the jolts were particularly painful, it was that they were distracting and irritating. Within moments, it had passed, and Chester resumed his pondering.

Now that he had figured out what was going on, he decided that he absolutely had to figure out a better way of accessing the data in his brain, as shouting stuff out loud, and hoping for it to complete his sentences was a pain in the ass.

Closing his eyes, Chester began to try to mentally access the...stuff he felt in the back of his mind.

It didn't work.

He next tried to not think about it and let it come to him.

Nothing happened.

Then, he tried thinking about it and forcing it to come.

That didn't help either.

At this point, he was getting somewhat annoyed, yet, to be fair, he wasn't expecting it to be especially easy.

As he was getting up to leave, planning to try again later, and see if things would improve with time, he paused for a moment while reaching for the door handle. The handle was a...curious contraption, made of some oily metal alloy that Chester did not recognize. Though he couldn't care less about it, he made a passing note of curiosity to himself about it.

Then, foreign knowledge slipped into his mind.

 **Composite Alloy. 41% Aluminum. 30% High Carbon Steel. 12% Iron. 10% Low Carbon steel. 7% Other Trace Metals.**

At first, Chester stood there, surprised. That was the most direct the knowledge had ever gotten. It was as if, he, himself knew what it was made of...Still though, he now had another theory about accessing the information that he wanted to test.

Turing to the bathroom wall, he stared at it, and wondered what it was made of...

Sure enough, he soon knew.

"Seventy percent fiberglass. Thirty percent plywood. Three millimeters thickness." He muttered to himself thoughtfully, trying to repress the urge to smile.

He had figured it out. Apparently, the "super knowledge", only worked when confronted with a direct question or problem. When he wasn't trying to figure specific stuff out, it seemed content to sit dormant.

While this was all fascinating, and he would have been eager to spend days researching and studying every nuance of his new-found power, Chester figured that he should probably just get an aspirin or something for his damn head. After a few moments of rifling through Evan's medicine cabinet, Chester found something that resembled painkillers, so he opened the unmarked container, took out a small red pill, and swallowed it. Waiting a few moments with no negative side-effects, Chester felt he was probably okay to leave.

Opening the door, grimacing at yet another spike of pain (He really hoped that pill would start working at some point), he happily proclaimed, "I am okay!"

Chris began cheering...and immediately doubled over, clutching his ribcage in pain, while Evan just simply nodded, confident that Chester had sorted himself out.

Then, Chester made a second announcement, "I've figured it out! I'm a genius!"

"youfiguredoutthe godtierpowers?" Chris asked, eyes alight in wonder,

"Yep." Chester said, trying to be nonchalant about the sheer mental strain it took him to figure it out...and the fact that he ultimately realized it through an accident.

"So, how does this stuff work?" Evan asked,

Chester narrowed his eyes and asked, "Do you really care?"

Evan shrugged and said, "Do you know what you're doing?"

Chester nodded.

Evan simply said, "Well, so long as it works, I don't really care."

Chester half smiled, and replied, "I have super knowledge and you don't care."

Chris called from the couch, "Icare!IHAVESOMANYQUESTIONS!"

Evan grunted and shrugged, "If you got it under control, That's all I need to know."

Then, Evan walked over into the small kitchenette, opened a drawer and said, "We'll figure everything else out later, now though, we celebrate the return of a friend!"

"Doyouhavepop?" Chris called,

Evan shook his head in disgust, and pulled out two glass bottles of clear fluid, "Bourbon or Scotch, take your pick." He grunted,

"Er...Evan" Chester hesitantly said, "I don't believe that either of those beverages are supposed to be clear."

Evan stared at him, and asked, "So?"

"Well, my brain says that the one on the right is like. Eighty percent alcohol." Chester stammered,

"And?" Evan said, annoyed

"And about twenty percent alcohol is enough to seriously damage a human's body. This is EIGHTY PRECENT. EVAN!" Chester exasperatedly yelled,

the other boy shrugged, pulling out shot-glasses from a drawer, "You take it in small doses," he said defensively,

"Where did you even get this stuff?" Chester asked, the answer forming in his mind as he did so.

"My dad brewed it." Evan stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ummguys" Chris said, "Canwenotdrink it?mybrothergaveme someonce andIdidn't likeit."

"Chris. If your brother gave you some of...this stuff...you'd be dead." Chester explained.

"So...That's a no then?" Evan asked, looking at Chris,

"It's a no for both of us!" Chester argued, "I can't believe I have to tell you not to drink what basically amounts to drain-cleaner!"

Looking closer, he added, "And that other one has Hydrochloric acid and trace amounts of Lead in it. What the Hell!?"

Evan's retort was cut short by knocking on the door of the Winnebago...

Immediately, all arguments cut silent, and both Evan and Chester appearified their helmets and uncaptchalogued their weapons.

As the knocking continued, the two of them approached the door, before stopping. Evan made a series of incomprehensible hand-gestures at Chester, who simply shrugged in confusion. Eventually, Evan gave up, and simply hissed at Chester to stay still, as he crept closer towards the door...

Swiftly swiping his hand towards the handle, Evan wrenched the door open, whilst brandishing his chainsword, ready to plunge it into whatever lay on the other side.

Then, his blade paused.

Behind him, Chester lowered the Undertaker to the ground.

For outside, stood none other than Boreall, Chester's faithful sprite.

"Oh, It's just you," Evan said, captchaloguing his sword.

"Whatsgoingon?" Chris called,

"It's just Boreall." Said Chester, while approaching the sprite,

"What are you doing here. Commander?" he asked,

" _ **AH...AH...**_ " the sprite stammered, " _ **Ah sahw deh qhuest slaeb ahctivahte, und ah feared deh wurst.**_ "

"We're all okay now, though," Evan said, beckoning the blue sprite to enter,

Boreall floated into the camper, and asked " _ **EF Ah may ahsk, hwat are yehr plans naow? Will ye goh fer deh Bluck Keeng ahgain?**_ "

"To be honest. We don't know." Chester answered, "Chris is severely injured. We don't know where the Black King even is now...We need to do some serious planning before we do much of anything else."

Evan looked quite downcast at that, but nodded his agreement. Chris piped up from the couch, saying, "Iflasttime wasdoing thingswithout aplan, thenIwould rathergetaplan thistime," and indicating his broken ribs.

Boreall nodded thoughtfully, and said, looking to Chester, " _ **Cundgratulatuns on rahsing teh gog-tiear, yung shquire! Truhly thou art ah greht warriur!**_ "

As Evan was about to protest that he was way better, Boreall cut him off, " _ **Buht...Youhr fhreind, whould...aslo...behnefit from acsending...ahll of hees injuhries whould beh heahled.**_ "

Chester narrowed his eyes in confusion, "Wait. I thought the quest beds only worked on slain players."

" _ **...Ehr...Dey Do**_." Boreall slowly stammered, " _ **Youhr fhreind whould need tehr beh...dehceased fer it ter werk...**_ " He trailed off, leaving the unspoken implications unsaid...

For a few moments, everyone was silent, before Chester said in the most stern voice he could manage, "No. No. No. No. We are not killing Chris. Under no circumstances. No. There has to be another way!"

As Boreall tried to explain, Evan interrupted, "I'm not sure about that Chester, It might be the best way, Chris would be fully healed, and he'd have some pretty rockin' super-powers or something, Right?" he finished, looking at the sprite,

" _ **Ehr...Rihgt!**_ " The sprite agreed, seeming more surprised at Evan's statement than even Chester was,

"What!?" both Chester and Chris cried,

"How could you even think about killing Chris?" Chester asked in bewilderment and shock,

"Pleasedon'tkillme" Chris whimpered,

"Calm Down," Evan said, "We're not killing anyone, yet." turning to Boreall, he asked, "Is this...quest bed thing foolproof? Can you give us a one-hundred and ten percent guarantee that, if we put a dead Chris on it, we'll get a live one back?"

" _ **Yhes. Ah ahm ornly trhying ter help yeh**_." The sprite said with utmost confidence, " _ **Ahny shlain phlayur wehl beh rehvivhed. Dat is whithout doubht.**_ "

"Evan." Chester tried again, "I can't believe you're even considering this. Think about it. This is a horrible idea."

"Why is it so bad?" Evan asked, "You've heard the Sprite, there's no risk to it, besides, we get cool superpowers"

"This isn't about that. It's about how you could so casually suggest we kill Chris." Chester spat, "I'm disappointed with you. Evan."

"Stopfightingguys," Chris moaned, "I'lldoitifyouwant,"

"No Chris." Chester said, "No-one is doing anything yet."

"FINE THEN" Evan spat, tired of Chester's nagging, "If you think it's so dangerous, Then I'll show you its safe!" he declared.

For a second, Chester didn't understand what Evan meant, but then it hit him.

"Dammit Evan! That's not what I meant! You most certainly don't need to do it. You're not even injured!" he cried, taken aback by the sheer depths of Evan's recklessness,

"Why not," Evan prompted, "It's my body, and I'd certainly like to see _you_ try and make me not do it,"

Chester could see that Evan was itching for yet another screaming match, but at the moment, Chester really didn't want to get into that. Least of all in-front of Chris. Though they had never been angry at each other in person before, it really was amazing how well incandescent fury translated into text.

Trying to deflect Evan, he quietly asked,

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

"I would never ask Chris to do anything I wouldn't do," Evan answered, dodging the question.

Chester paused for a few moments, took a long, searching look at Boreall, and finally consented to the plan.

"Fine. We'll do it your way. I don't think I need to tell you that you bear responsibility for this."

Evan nodded, a fierce glint in his eyes, and muttered, "I damn well better get something more useful than bloody 'Super brain powers',"

Boreall floated in the doorway awkwardly, before asking, " _ **Soh...Bouth of yeh ahre gohing ter do eet?**_ "

Evan, who was walking to the driver's seat, motioning for Chris to buckle up, called over his shoulder, "Yeah, if all goes well, say...you comin'?"

Boreall hesitated, before saying, _**"Ah whould laik notheeng battar, bhut Ah mhust stahy heer ahnd tray ter geet deh cohnsorts under conteroll. Deh qhuest slaeb's ahctivahton uhpset dehm tehribbly.**_ "

Evan shrugged, and absentmindedly said "Okay then, you do your thing"

Boreall vigorously nodded, and excused himself from the Winnebago.

Chester made sure to properly strap in Chris, and, ignoring Chris's complaints about the tightness of the belts, made his way into the cabin.

Plonking himself down beside Evan, Chester glanced over at him, paused for a moment as Evan was firing up the Winnebago, then said, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? While the whole 'Resurrection' process will probably work...you're talking about deliberately dying here"

Evan ignored him for a while, then, just before he stuck his glove-key into the ignition, he muttered, "I'm dead set on this, Chester, I think this is a good idea."

As Evan coaxed the Winnebago to life, and it slowly began the first shuddering moments of it's ascent, Chester sat in his seat quietly. As the Winnebago's engines began their deafening roar, Chester quietly said, "Alright. I'm in."

Evan simply nodded, deftly angling the steering wheel downwards, which sent the Winnebago upwards. The entire frame shook terribly as they began to climb through the atmosphere, yet this time, Chester didn't flinch or feel remotely unsafe. He briefly analyzed the internal structure of the Winnebago, and quickly assessed the forces acting on it from the ascent, swiftly concluding that they were in no danger and that the structure would hold.

Soon, they once again broke orbit, and entered the cold, bleak wastes of space.

As they began going towards his planet, Evan was oddly reluctant to strike up conversation, so Chester left him alone, and simply looked out the passenger window with barely hidden awe into the depths of space.

XXXXX

The brief journey was spent in a quiet, sombre mood. Evan had left the radio off, and even Chris did not try to break the silence that reigned. Though, it wasn't an uncomfortable or unfriendly sort of quiet, more of a resigned, melancholy lull.

As the camper swiftly approached the crimson ball that was the Land of Ash and Citadels, Evan broke the silence,

"We're here," he softly murmured,

"HeyEvan," Chris called from behind,

"mhm," he replied, focusing on steering the Winnebago towards the planet before them,

"wellIwasthinking..."

"...what are you thinking, Chris" Evan asked with an over dramatic sigh,

"wellIfChestercouldn't convinceyoutonot dothis...Ijustwantedto say...goodluck" Chris said, trying to be heard over the engines,

"Thanks Chris," Evan said sincerely,

Just then, they entered the hazy, ash filled atmosphere of Evan's Volcano planet. Once again, the Winnebago began to shudder and shake, disconcerting groans filling the air.

Chester was pretty glad of his powers right then and there, he was fairly sure that Chris would be panicking in the back seat at this point, and Chester was just glad to have something a bit more concrete to put his faith in, besides Evan's " _Quality building skill_ ".

Chris's comment seemed to have a positive effect on Evan, and Chester was once again given a visual reminder of Chris's value in their group. The often foolish, naive, kleptomaniac was just naturaly good at keeping their little group together, as his completely inexhaustible enthusiasm was enough to sometimes even calm Evan down.

Soon, they had cleared the uppermost parts of the atmosphere, and Chester could actually see out of the windows for a change. Since this was the first time he had seen either Evan or Chris's planets, he paid close attention.

The surrounding landscape was comprised of monotonously bleak gray dunes, with what appeared to be lakes of bubbling magma intermittently spaced out among them. Further off, distant mountain ranges of a dark burgundy complexion could be seen. Sparsely, tiny villages that, presumably, housed consorts of some kind, were visible, nestled amongst the dunes.

At first, as Evan didn't slow down, Chester was confused as-to what was happening, but then, he realized that Evan must have been looking for a "quest slab"...or whatever that thing was.

As the Winnebago leisurely cruised above the shifting ash below them, Chester could make out some form of stone castles, nearly at the edges of his vision. Bored, he hoped that Evan would either find his quest bed already, or at least go and check the forts out.

Looking straight down, Chester could see tiny, dark, roughly humanoid shapes darting around in confusion at the Winnebago's passing.

As he was wondering what Evan's...err...enemies...would be like, he was interrupted when Evan excitedly proclaimed, "There!", Pointing into the distance.

Finally presented with something interesting, Chester eagerly sat up, and peered into the distance...

...Nothing. He saw absolutely nothing besides the omnipresent shifting ash dunes. Now, he had never boasted "ideal vision," but he figured it was "good enough"...mostly at least. So after a while of fruitlessly scanning the horizon, he simply huffed, crossed his arms, and sat back down in his seat.

Sure enough, (Much to his annoyance), Evan's sharp eyes prevailed, and soon enough, a spindly tower of crimson stone was visible in the distance.

The Winnebago made a nimble approach, circled the tower thrice, and came in for a rough landing in the ashes at the tower's base, skidding for several meters in the ash dunes.

Shaken from the landing, Chester grumbled, "Could you not have used the VTOL functions to actually land with a _measure_ of control?"

Evan, who was busy flipping various switches and fiddling with the ignition, simply said, "Nah, that would take longer,"

Sarcastically, Chester said, "Of course. Speed always takes precedence over safety."

Smiling, Evan agreed, "Obviously,"

As they exited their seats and walked to the center of the camper, Chester looked to Chris and apologetically said, "Sorry. You'll have to sit this one out. Again."

Chris, looked at Evan and said, "Becarefulokay?"

Sighing in mock frustration and shaking his head, Evan said, "Right, and here I was planning to kill myself permanently, you sure set me straight Chris."

"Imserious" Chris protested,

"I know, Ill be fine Chris, it's okay," Evan said reassuringly,

"Alrightythen," Chris smiled, "goodluck,"

Nodding, Evan uncaptchalogued his gas-mask helmet. When a confused Chester gave him a funny look, Evan turned to him and said, voice distorted by the gas-mask, "Do you really want to wander around in all that airborne ash without a helmet? That sounds like a recipe for lung-cancer to me"

Chester shuddered, and quickly uncaptchalogued his helmet and put it on.

The sheer contrast between Chester's current god-tier outfit and his green-lensed helmet was so stark and ridiculous that Evan promptly started snickering beneath his mask.

"Oh shut up." Chester growled,

Ready at least, Evan looked to him, nodded, and opened the door, sending a burst of smoky ash into the camper. Suddenly, Chester found Evan pushing him out of the door.

Outside, Evan slammed the door shut, trying to minimize the amount of ash and smoke that would enter the camper, and which Chris would inevitably end up breathing in.

Turning to Chester, he gestured towards the tower, and the two of them set off.

Reaching the tower's base, they saw a steep ramp cut into the crimson stone, and began to ascend.

As they climbed, trying not to slip, fall and die, Chester took a moment to ponder just what the hell this strange rock was. Not that he particularly cared, he was just mildly curious. **Bloodstone** , his mind volunteered.

Shocked, Chester nearly leapt to his death before realizing that it was just his new powers manifesting themselves again. He shook his head, this would take getting used to. At that point, he didn't even care about what the hell "bloodstone" was.

Turning his attention forwards, he resumed the grueling and precarious climb, inwardly cursing Sburb for not installing an elevator.

They soon reached the top.

Much like the tower on his planet, this one had a violet, rectangular stone slab upon it, while the rest of the surface was planed clean. Curiously, Chester noticed Evan looking around, tensed up, before seemingly seeing nothing and relaxing.

Not willing to question it, Chester simply walked up to Evan and said,

"So..."

"So..." Evan replied, adding "We're here, then,"

shivering in the heavy winds that swept the tower, Chester said, "You don't have to do this. You know."

"What? Are we still on that defeatist crap? Of course I'm doing this," Evan said, adding, "I was just...looking for something first,"

Curious, Chester asked, "What?"

"Oh, ...err...nothing," Evan said, brushing off Chester,

"Anyway," the young psychopath said, "Let's get this over with,"

Thus, Evan walked over to the slab, reaching into his backpack as he did so, withdrawing a handgun of some sort. Sitting on the bed, Evan pulled the slide back until it clicked, then, he lay down on his back, and said,

"Hey...if this doesn't work...there's something you need to know..."

"What?" Chester asked, already knowing the answer,

"You have shit fashion sense," Evan said, drawing the gun to his head.

Swiftly, before Chester could even begin to turn around, Evan pulled the trigger.

...

For a few seconds, Chester stared, dumbfounded at the still body before him, watching and hoping with every fiber of his being for the god-tier process to start. Though, he already knew from his insider's knowledge of Sburb's mechanics that the quest slabs would work on any dead players, regardless of the means of their deaths. Oh, and there was something about "dreamselves" in there too, but he didn't even want to know what the hell those were.

Then, with startling swiftness, the wind that buffeted the tower stopped, blanketing the platform with a sudden sense of still unease.

Anxious, Chester cautiously looked around, but he saw nothing dangerous, so he returned his attention to the tower, where he was overjoyed to see four purple lights slowly lift their way upwards from the slab.

Immediately, a feeling of utter hatred and violence swept over him, leaving him shivering, despite the immense heat on Evan's planet.

The lights continued to rise, increasing in intensity as they did so, covering the tower with a blindingly white light.

Chester, deciding to not stare straight at them, closed his eyes. Simultaneously, the overwhelming feeling of anger and hate increased, spreading to every being upon the planet. Chris, safely back in the Winnebago, compared this strange wave of feeling to the one on Chester's planet, and fearfully groaned, "Ohnotagain", as the wave swept through the Winnebago.

Soon, the piercing light had increased to a point where it could be seen from across the entire planet, (somehow). All across the Land of Ash and citadels, consorts and underlings alike turned to face the piercing, purple light.

XXXXX

Meanwhile, upon a dark, violet moon, inside a towering purple spire, a young lad slept.

Slowly, his form began to glow, until the entire round tower where he was kept shone with an ethereal violet light...

XXXXX

Chester remained upon the platform, violently shivering as the overwhelming feelings of doom and hate reached an unbearable crescendo, and suddenly, everything stopped.

A booming message roared through his mind, along with the minds of every other being upon the planet,

 **"** **ARISE PRINCE OF RAGE"**

Chester nearly jumped out of his skin at that, but a few seconds later, with the strange aura gone, and the wind returned, he figured that things must be over. Hesitantly opening his eyes, Chester saw Evan, sitting up upon the slab, garbed in some sort of purple robes.

Seeing him, Evan looked at him, grinned, and asked, "Did it work?"

 **A/N: Well then...that was pretty dark.**

 **Anyway, I would like to just quickly explain my headcanon for the Mage of Space class, as well as how I will be using the Witch of Space class in this story.**

 **So, first off, the mage deals with knowledge and stuff, (like we see here), so I will be making Chester a more passive, organizational player, as opposed to Jade, who will be more of a "go out there and do stuff" player.**

 **Also, I have a new system for limitations and abilities for both classes.**

 **Firstly, the Witch of Space can manipulate objects with ease, they start off with excellent control of their powers. However, in terms of creating objects, they will (initially) be very limited as they don't start off with the knowledge part of things, so, say, while they could spawn a...let's say, Ferrari, and successfully receive a good looking chassis, the internal components would be messed up as they wouldn't know what goes inside a Ferrari. Though, as the witch grows in skill and practices frequently, the knowledge will come.**

 **The mage, on the other hand, has knowledge, but very limited and clumsy powers. So while Chester would know all the internal and external components of a Ferrari, he would be unable to actually create one, due to his crappy object manipulation powers. Once again though, the skill will (not for a long time) come.**

 **In terms of the power combinations we saw in the final cinematic, who's title eludes me at the moment, Chester and Jade will be able to combine their powers of control and knowledge to actually create stuff from scratch, without having to wait to fully realize their powers.**

 **Phew, that was a mouthful. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and review, if you have any comments on the way I'm setting up the two space players please say them, and...yeah, review, and check back next week at some point for the next chapter.**


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hey lads and lasses. I am quite sorry for the slow update. This time, it's due to a massive workload, both in school and the workplace, as well as me simply loosing the "creative spark" I had about twenty chapters ago. This story is not dead, and I do not plan for it to die anytime soon. Now then, we are currently one chapter away from the official end of "act one". After the next Chapter, I will take a several month long break, after which, I will return, hopefuly refreshed, (And having re-read acts 2 & 3 of Homestuck), and act 2 will begin, starring the Beta Kids and Trolls. Anyway, the next Chapter will be quite long, so expect a roughly two week wait time, Im running of my last dregs of creative juice at this point. As for further info on how stuff is going to go, expect further news in the next Chapter.**

 **I would like to thank each and every person who reviewed, and, for the people pointing out canonical errors ; ...well...you're probably right, idk, it's been some time since I read the opening acts of Homestuck. I hope you can forgive my less than 100% canonical consistency.**

 **As always, I own nothing save the OC's, and I hope you enjoy!**

Upon a land of ash and citadels,

For a few moments, Chester just kinda stared blankly at Evan, before sighing dramatically, and snarkily muttering, "Well. dying certainly hasn't changed you,."

Evan shrugged, and hopped off the slab. Examining his new outfit, the other boy grimaced, "What the hell even is this thing?" Evan spat incredulously, "This looks even worse than _your_ stupid costume, I demand a refund,"

Chester simply shook his head, while analyzing Evan's new costume.

Evan's new...attire was quite...odd, even when compared to the...strange garb that Chester now wore. Evan had a purple shirt with a strange violet hooded cape, that was quite short, and only went down about halfway down his back. Upon the center of his shirt, rested the same strange hieroglyph that was shown upon the stone slab. The oddest part of his wardrobe, were his pants, or, rather, the lack of pants. Instead, Evan had a pair of really strange...poofy things, that went down to his knees. Chester had no idea what they were, but he remembered seeing something similar in a televised Shackspeer play. Other than those, Evan had white, knee-high socks, along with some plain brown shoes.

All in all, the outfit was pretty weird.

Fiddling around with his fetch modus, Evan finally succeeded in captchaloguing the stupid outfit, and replacing it with his normal gray coat, gas-mask, and combat boots. Then, thoughtfully pausing for a moment, Evan uncaptchalogued the combined cape-hood, and put it back on, over-top of his gasmask.

When Chester cocked his head, and gave him a queer look from under his helmet, Evan simply shrugged and muttered something about the cape being cool, and how he could, "make it work".

Chester simply made an exaggerated nodding motion, and gestured downwards, silently asking if they could head back. The heavy winds upon the tower, and the swirling clouds of ash made it an unpleasant place to stop and chat.

Evan nodded, and they set off down the steep, spiraling, ramp.

As they walked, Chester bringing up the rear, the gusts of wind intensified. This, coupled with the steep, treacherous footing, made the climb down very slow and cautious. Then, as Evan rounded a bend, Chester stepped onto an especially slick piece of stone. Coincidentally, a heavy gust of wind just so happened to blow through the area.

Letting out a startled shriek, Chester was sent sliding uncontrollably down the steep ramp, and off the side of the tower.

As he fell, time seemed to slow. Looking at the ground, Chester grimly wondered if his quest bed could be used more than once, since he was about to die a second time in a single day. Then, his brain chimed in, having calculated all the factors, and submitted that falling sixty meters, into a mound of loosely packed ash, at his likely maximum velocity would be unlikely to result in death.

As Chester continued to mentally berate himself for managing to dye in the most pathetic way possible, he noticed something...curious.

He wasn't falling.

Doing a double take, he confirmed that, indeed, the ground wasn't getting any closer.

Confused, Chester looked around, and saw that he was just kinda suspended there, in mid air, a few meters below from where he fell.

For a few moments, Chester kinda floated there, failing to process what was happening, and fully expecting to fall any second. After it became abundantly clear that he likely wasn't going to fall, Chester tried to figure out what the heck was going on.

First, he tried thinking about it, hoping that his new-found super brain would fill in the blanks for him.

…

It didn't work. ' _Since. of course. that would be too easy._ ' Chester grumbled mentally,

With that out of the way, he decided to do something he had always loved to do... Methodical logical deduction!

Just as he was about to start figuring stuff out, Evan looked over the tower, and saw him, just floating there...

For several seconds, Evan stood there, and blankly stared at him through the black lenses of his gas-mask. Then, Evan made the universal gesture of 'dude, what the heck?', and shrugged,

Chester was about to wave him to move on, before wondering if moving at all, might cause him to fall...so, he eventually settled for simply shaking his head at Evan, who eventually got the message, and continued on his way down.

Chester then resumed his thinking.

First, he reasoned, he should try moving his arms, to see if that would cause him to fall.

Cautiously, he slowly and deliberately moved his right arm so that it was in front of him. Waiting a few moments, he sighed in relief, happy that he wasn't dropped.

Next, having established the fact that he could move, Chester decided to...well...he wasn't really sure where to go from here, he realized. Apart from moving his limbs, there was little that he could actually do up here...

Looking down, he gulped, hoping that he wouldn't be stuck up here until he starved to death...Which actually brought up another interesting question, "Did God-tier players need to eat?"

Chester sighed, there was so much more research to be done on this game.

A flash of movement below caught his attention. Glancing down, he saw Evan, standing below him, waving his arms. As the wind gusts picked up, Chester shivered, cursing the thin material that made up this "God-tier" costume. At this point, he really just wanted to be let down, and to go back to the Winnebago.

Then, as he was longingly looking at the ground, he suddenly started to move towards it.

Shocked, Chester flinched backwards in surprise, and the movement stopped.

Though he had stopped moving, and was still quite far from the ground, Chester was grinning triumphantly, he had figured it out...or so he thought, anyway.

As far as his new hypothesis went, the strange floating stuff, was the result of some sort of flying ability, either localized to Evan's planet, or as a result of him going God-tier. Now, if his theory was correct, all he had to do was to figure out how to actually fly...

 _Clearly_ , an easy task.

XXXXX

Meanwhile on the ground, Evan had simply grunted, and wandered off to the Winnebago, planning to get a rope or something to reel Chester back. Why his friend was floating in the first place, Evan didn't know or care.

Snorting in annoyance at yet another delay, he continued to trudge through the shifting ash piles.

XXXXX

Chester was simply utilizing the process of elimination to teach himself to fly.

First, he tried thinking hard about flying.

It didn't work.

Then, he decided to try striking an Uberman pose, outstretched fist pointing to where he wanted to go.

…

That didn't work either. It also made him look foolish, so he quickly went back to normal.

…

After a few other attempts had failed, Chester moved on to a theory that said, perhaps, flying would be like walking, in the sense that you don't really think about it, you just kinda raise your legs and do it.

Not entirely certain how to fly through the novel method of "just doing it", Chester slowly began to simply look at the ground and thinking about going there.

To his immense bewilderment, he actually started slowly moving towards the ground.

Encouraged, Chester made a celebratory fist bump, and continued downwards.

After two seconds, he swiftly grew bored with his pace, and wondered if he could go faster.

Seemingly in response to his thoughts, his speed began to increase.

In the distance, Chester noticed Evan approaching, a coil of rope in his arms.

Rapidly approaching the ground, Chester flipped over, pointing his boots at the ground, intending to make a cool landing...

Hitting the ground, Chester knees promptly buckled, sending him sprawling on the ground, where he ended up at Evan's feet, head mostly buried in ash.

Shaking himself off, while slowly getting up, Chester made out the end of some snide comment Evan had made, "Nice one,"

"Ah... Screw you" he shakily stammered, trying to re-orient himself.

Evan grabbed his shoulders, lifting him up and straightening him out, before backing up, and asking,

"...Soooo, Wanna explain why you were floating?"

Chester puffed out his chest, and in the most knowledgeable tone he could muster, he explained, "Well. The way I think this works. Is that God-tiers can fly...Or maybe your planet just has messed up gravity."

Under his helmet, Evan snorted, before nodding and muttering, "Well, it wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen in this stupid game,"

Turning to walk back to the Winnebago, Chester was suddenly struck with inspiration.

Glancing excitedly at Evan, he quickly asked, "Hey. I just realized. You're a God-tier. Maybe you can do it too."

Evan looked at him, tilted his head quizzically, before agreeing, "Sure, I guess, what do I have to do?"

Chester didn't answer, simply motioning for Evan to follow, as he trudged towards the Winnebago (Hoping and praying that this would work). Sighing, the other boy soon followed.

As he approached the Winnebago, Chester ignored the door, instead opting to wander around to the rear of the vehicle. A confused Evan trailed behind, muttering incoherently about the lack of flight going on.

Arriving at a stop beside a small exterior ladder that led to the camper's roof, Chester simply waved to Evan, and eloquently offered, "Ladies first,"

Evan looked at the ladder, grumbled "I'm more of a man than you'll ever be", before shrugging, and scaling the ladder, with Chester following.

Standing on the roof of the camper, an exasperated Evan asked, "So now what, I've still yet to see any flying..."

Chester walked up beside him, and unceremoniously gave Evan a rough shove off the camper, (hoping that he didn't just make a colossal mistake).

Evan flailed, cursing profusely, and dropped for a few seconds, before stopping in mid air, and commencing to simply float above the ground.

For half a second, Chester lit up, happy that his hypothesis had worked...Before Evan roared in anger, turning around to face him. Then, with a noise that could best be described as 'incomprehensible bellowing', Evan flew straight into Chester, so quickly that he couldn't even raise his arms before Evan slammed into him, continuing his incoherent verbal tirade.

Together, the two sprawled atop the camper.

Evan recovered first, grabbing Chester by his collar and furiously slamming him into the metal roof so hard that it put a dent in the steel plating. Evan then swiftly raised his fist with outright murder on his mind, before hesitating...' _Where did that come from_?' the young berserker wondered, dropping his arm in shock.

Sure, he was pissed, but for a moment... he had almost felt like...killing Chester.

Shuddering, Evan let a squirming Chester go, and got to his feet, grumbling "That's what you get when you push me off stuff, dumbass", trying to play off his...overreaction as a joke.

Getting shakily up, Chester sheepishly apologized, "Sorry about that. … At least we got you flying..."

That got Evan's attention.

Flying.

Yes. He had done that.

Huh.

All he remembered of that moment was falling, realizing Chester had pushed him, then...nothing. Still, he figured that, if he had done it once, he could easily do it again.

So, turning his gaze towards the sky, Evan tensed, and thought as hard as he could about going up there. After a few seconds of intense concentration, he gave up, and turned to Chester, only to see that Chester was gone.

In fact, the entire Winnebago was gone.

Shocked, Evan glanced around the surrounding area, seeing nothing but swirling clouds of ash. Looking down in confusion, he finally saw the Winnebago.

About...two thousand feet below him, little more than a thumb-sized rectangle of white, against the ashen gray fields.

Beneath his gasmask, Evan grinned, thinking of all the wonderful combat possibilities this new ability gained him. Particularly, he was very eager for a rematch with the Black King, now that he had a way of removing the enemy's size advantage. Grinning evilly at the thought, Evan glanced down again, wondering if he should go rejoin Chester.

…

Immediately, he decided, ' _nah_ ', and simply chose to fly around for a bit. His friends could wait.

After a few awkward and clumsy attempts at moving around in three dimensions, Evan began to (slowly) get the hang of it. As far as he could tell, you just looked where you wanted to go, and you went there.

Flying higher, Evan was getting buffeted by heavy wind resistance, which (if it weren't for his thick, weather proof coat) would be very unpleasant and cold. Still he continued zipping around at progressively higher speeds.

At his current height, he was directly inside the swirling ash clouds that cocooned the entire planet. Being unable to see, didn't really make him slow down in the slightest, or exercise any further caution. His main reasoning being something along the lines of, ' _There's nothing up here to hit, it'll be fine_ '

As he continued to fly, going head-first, stomach down, trying to make himself as aerodynamic as possible, an unpleasant thought popped into his head. 'Just what the hell happened down there?' he thought, remembering when he almost lost control and seriously hurt his friend.

Despite what his friends thought, Evan never really "lost it" or "saw red, and stopped thinking clearly". On the contrary, Evan was quite proud of the fact that he could go completely ballistic while retaining his mental faculties, so that he wouldn't do anything stupid while mad...like walking into an ambush... or breaking something valuable...not that anything like that had ever happened, of course...

Anyway, Evan _did do_ stupid stuff while mad, but that was because he had made conscious decisions to do them, not because he "lost it," and "flew off the rails,". Hell, Evan often did stupid stuff in the rare few moments when he was completely calm.

So, that begged the question, 'What the hell happened?'.

Sighing, Evan mentally steeled himself for once again, doing his most hated of activities...thinking logically...

He didn't need to think long, before the most obvious answer struck him.

The God-tier process.

He had seen that Chester got powers and stuff from his "class?", so it only made sense that Evan would get some too. It was just that, besides the flying, (which seemed to be a hallmark of all God-tiers) Evan didn't seem to have any "special abilities".

The only things he could identify as "being different", were just that he seemed to feel somewhat healthier and stronger post-transformation...but that might have just been a temporary side-effect of the process.

The other thing, was that he had, seemingly, a shorter fuse, and perhaps, less self control than he did earlier. ' _Honestly'_ , he reflected, ' _It does make sense, what with the whole "Prince of Rage" stuff going on_ '...

He then realized he had no idea how he even knew he was a "Prince of Rage". Hell, he didn't even know what that even meant, aside from sounding ruthlessly cool. Shrugging, and simply cursing "Sburb majjyks", he moved on.

At this point, he was fairly certain that his outburst had something to do with his God-tier ascension.

Though, he wasn't entirely sure what (if anything) he could do about it. On-top of that, he wasn't even sure that having a short(er) temper was that much of a bad thing. Call it the "Sburb majjyks" talking, but he kinda liked the idea of being a rage-fueled berserker.

Smiling fondly at the thoughts of grisly violence, Evan veered sharply to the side and let himself plummet towards the ground, deciding to finally return to the camper, and get their little detour over with.

As he fell faster and faster, Evan began to get mildly concerned about whether he could stop in time. With a very self-annoyed grunt, he realized that this might not have been the best idea...

Finally, the clouds parted, and he found himself perhaps a hundred feet above the dunes. Muttering "Now or never," Evan glanced up, and tried with all his will to stop...

Mercifully, the winds stopped roaring past him, and he came to a full halt...twenty feet away from the ground.

Dropping to his feet, and immediately sinking into the ash, Evan softly whistled at the sheer closeness of that particular close call.

The Winnebago, along with a particularly annoyed Chester, were right where he'd left them, at the foot of the crimson pillar, so Evan quickly walked (or rather, slowly trudged through knee deep ash dunes) towards them.

As he approached, he noticed that Chester had dismounted from the roof, and was currently pacing around the camper. Upon seeing Evan, the other boy quickly stomped towards him.

Upon approach, the only thing Chester did was exasperatedly ask, "Did you really have to do that without telling me what you were doing?"

Evan simply grinned under his mask, and replied with a completely flat and deadpan, "Yep,"

When Chester let out an irritated sigh, and threw his arms up in frustration, Evan added, "You aren't the boss of me, I go where I wanna to go,"

Turning to walk back, Chester huffed, and called over his shoulder, "Yeah. Well. You don't have to be an uncooperative ass while doing it."

Walking beside him, Evan just shook his head condescendingly, and joked, "But if I didn't, then who would? Someone has to..."

"You're impossible." Chester sighed.

Returning to the camper, they both quickly entered, trying to keep as much of the floating particulate matter out as possible, and were greeted by a still couch-ridden Chris, who was utterly ecstatic to see them.

"ohmygosh, Evan'sokay!Ifeltthething,likeonchester'splanet andIthoughtit wasokay,but thenyouguysdidn't comeback, andIwassoworriedsomething wentwrong!" The young lad squealed out, absolutely relieved to see Evan back.

In the meantime, both Evan and Chester had uncaptchalogued their helmets, and sat down at the table.

"In case you couldn't tell, Chris," Evan began to explain with mock patience, "I'm here, and everything's fine,"

"The reason we didn't show up earlier." Chester pitched in, "Was because someone..." He glanced meaningfully at Evan, "Felt like wandering off without saying anything."

"It's a free country", Evan shrugged,

"WE'RE NOT EVEN IN A COUNTRY! WHAT DOES THAT SAYING EVEN MEAN?" Chester sarcastically cried.

"Buteverything'sgood now?" Chris asked,

"Yep," Evan grunted, elbowing Chester to let him out of the booth,

As Chester scooted over, Chris looked Evan over, and asked, disappointed, "Whyaren't youwearing yourGog-tier outfit?"

Evan, who at this point was rummaging through various cup-boards for food, muttered, "It was an ungodly abomination, a crime against fashion everywhere,"

Pointing at Evan's violet hood and cape, Chester butted in, "Before you get too far into your rant. I think you're forgetting something..."

"Yeah...well...The hood's stylish," Evan retorted,

"YEAH!Ithinkitlooks good," Chris agreed,

"See, Chris agrees," Evan said, examining some sort of granola bar.

"Funny." Chester deadpanned, "You only seem to acknowledge his opinion when he's agreeing with you."

"Well when he disagrees with me he's wrong," Evan stated, "And, by default, that means he doesn't get an opinion,"

"Fascist." Chester coughed under his breath,

"Filthy Canadian Socialist," Evan muttered, spitting out the S-word like it was the most horrid thing he could think of (Or, to be specific, the _second_ worst thing...)

Having something to eat, Evan unwrapped the bar, and leaned against the wall, chewing quietly.

After a few moments of silence, Chester inquired, "So. What next? Are we going to make Chris do it too?"

Petrified, Chris squeaked, "Nothanks"

Evan was quiet and contemplative for almost half a second, before burping, and saying, "Yeah, he kinda has to,"

Ignoring Chris's protests, Chester nodded thoughtfully, "I guess you're right. Still though. It's on you to see this through."

Grinning, Evan bantered, "Yeah, it's okay, we all know you're too squeamish to watch,"

Chester was about to retort, before pausing a moment, and agreeing, "You're right." Before muttering, "Bloody psychopath..."

"Pansy nerd," Evan retorted under his breath

"Doigetasayin this?" Chris whimpered

Chester and Evan both turned to him, and together said, "No"

Finishing his granola bar, Evan tossed the wrapper away, and went into the cabin, calling over his shoulder, "Right, we're going, Strap in, or whatever,"

Chris groaned, and awkwardly managed to attach himself to the couch, Chester just grabbed the seat-belt and strapped in. As Evan warmed up the engines, distantly cursing about all the bloody dust and ash that got into the components, an awkward silence reigned. Normally, said silence would have been instantly shattered by Chris, as, even when they lived on opposite ends of North America, the small, lanky youth still found a way to never give Chester a moment of peace or quiet.

Which made the current silence all the more noticeable. Chester just wasn't sure what to say to Chris, after all, what does one say to someone marching to his death?

Then again, Chester and Evan had both done it, so it wasn't _that bad_...Right?

Still, Chester reasoned that he should say or do _something_ to calm Chris down. After all, it wasn't as if Evan could be relied upon to provide words of encouragement. The young fascist's idea of a "rousing speech" was to bombastically shout at people about how weak and spineless they were, and to proudly and matter-of-factly announce that they should stop being weak and be more like him...Because...yeah, according to Evan, that was all it took to become a strong, cold, detached killer. Just stop being a coward, and...go bench-press something...

Chester could swear that he felt the rational part of himself wither a bit every time he heard one of the patented "Evan speeches".

Shaken back to the present by the shudder of the Winnebago as it broke orbit, Chester figured that he should probably say _something_ , so, he gave it a shot, "Hey Chris?"

"Mhm?" the young lad across from him muttered, turning to face him,

"Well...it's all going to be okay. You know? Like...err...well..." Chester stammered, "The quest beds work on dead people...and stuff...and it's apparently foolproof. So it's guaranteed to work." he finished, silently cursing himself for probably making the situation worse.

"Wellyeah,Igetthat" Chris wearily agreed, "ItsjustthatI getuncomforatble beingputonthe spotlikethis. Ikindawantit tobemydecision, youknow? Ijustfeelforcedinto it."

"You don't have to go through with it." Chester suggested,

"WellIhaveto though," Chris wheezed, indicating his broken body, "Ihaveno otheroptions rightnow...althoughIcould alwaysjust.. _.remainacrippleforever_... _thatsoundswonderful_ " he finished with bitter sarcasm,

"Yeah. It isn't right that Evan's pushing you into this." he sighed, "Hell. He's basically doing the equivalent of picking you up and lugging you to the quest bed. While still alive. Kicking. And screaming"

"Stillhe'sdoingwhat hethinks isbest...and...well...itkindais" Chris quietly attested

Chester was silent for a moment, then grudgingly agreed, "...You're right. I've never said that there was another option. We really do have no choice here. And it's terrible. I hate this situation so much. That's what makes me mad about this. Not Evan" he vented, in his usual quiet tone, before adding, "Well...mostly not Evan...in this exact case..."

"Still," Chris said, "Atleastweknow thatit'sreasonablysafe."

"Indeed. That it is." Chester wearily grumbled,

For a few minutes, as the Winnebago flew onwards, towards a blue and gray speck in the distance, they sat in companionable silence. After some time, Chester leaned onto the table, and with a conspiratorial smile, asked, "So...What kind of God-tier powers are you hoping for? … I don't really know of any...but still...sky's the limit."

Chris weakly smiled, and began what was likely going to be a long monologue, "Well...Iwasthinking..."

XXXXX

Meanwhile, inside the cabin, Evan let out a content sigh. For once, everything was reasonably okay, and he could sit back and relax...

Somewhat, anyway. There could still be more of those blasted Dersite ships, plying the void between worlds, searching for them, and it would be horrendously embarrassing for him if he allowed one to take him by surprise. Thus, he sat in an unorthodox state of alert relaxedness, casually keeping an eye on the surrounding void.

Though he wasn't wholly right about there not being any problems, it was just that said problems were too far away to be dealt with at the moment, so he saw no use in stressing out about them. Chester, he knew, would demand they make plans to confront the Black King, and about what they would do afterwards, but as Evan had learned, plans never worked anyway, so why bother? Besides, jumping blindly into a situation, and making your way out as you went along was so chaotic and unpredictable, that any foe that tried to anticipate Evan's moves, would be left thoroughly fooled and confused. After all, you can't plan against someone, who doesn't have any plans.

Fondly, he was reminded of the few times Chester had tried to get him involved in those "Warslammer" games of his. Though most of the rules and regulations had went over his head, Evan had grasped enough of the game's rules to play an online match or two against his friend.

It was here, that Evan's strategy of not having a strategy paid off...

While Chester wasted his time with "Optimal unit compositions" and "Synergy of all his units" and "Anticipating Evan's army makeup and tactics", Evan had simply stuffed his army full of nothing but _**Evil Spess Rangers**_ , that had been armed with axes, and spiky armor. At the game's start, Chester had arranged his carefully organized army into a defensive position, designed to offer optimal maneuverability for skirmishing, and the opportunity to swiftly advance and reposition to create overlapping areas of fire.

Evan, meanwhile, had simply put all of his berserker squads into a straight line, and the second the match started, rushed all of them across the virtual arena towards Chester's troops, heedless of casualties.

Chester had not anticipated such insane, reckless, and suicidal behavior, and as he was struggling to withdraw, Evan's horde of maddened super-soldiers had collided with his ranks, and soon had cut his entire army to pieces.

…

…

Chester hadn't messaged him for a week after that.

Evan smiled fondly, good times.

It also taught a valuable lesson about the validity of his own combat mentality. His insane tactics, that he mostly just made up on the spot, were just as surprising to Chester as they were to him. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if ramming the command bridge of a Dersite ship was a better idea than he had first realized. It would certainly be unexpected...

Idly running his gaze over the various gauges, Evan wondered what, if any, super-powers he had been given by this... "God-tier" process. So far, he felt angrier, and more prone to lash out irrationally, but apart from that...he wasn't feeling anything special...yet.

Not that he minded the enhanced irritability, it was just that he was really banking on getting heat-vision, or fire breath. _'Although, the flight was a nice touch_ ,' he conceded, feeling quite thrilled at the prospect of no longer having to climb stuff in order to reach the Black King.

Still, Chester had flight _in addition_ to his repertoire of super-knowledge, so Evan was hoping that he might have some form of locked powers that he had yet to find.

Once again though, stressing about his powers wouldn't make them suddenly manifest, so Evan took a deep breath (or ten), trying to relax like Chris had told him to, and disinterestedly eyed their destination.

Chris's planet was now a golf-ball sized disk of gray and blue in the distance. Though he was giving the Winnebago's engines all he could muster, the journey still would take quite some time. Having already gone from Chris's world to Chester's, Evan could attest to the sheer length and crushing boredom of the journey. At least last time he had Chris to entertain him, Evan silently complained. Currently, the scrawny thief wasn't in well enough a shape to be doing much of anything, and Chester was being a boring sulky bastard like always.

' _Still_ ,' Evan thought, stretching, he could have fun all by himself. With that, he pressed the "rewind" button on his radio, and began to listen to the same Vietnam War album, that he had heard a million times as he grew up...

XXXXX

Soon (Okay, it actually took a hell of a long time, and Evan nearly dozed off behind the wheel from boredom) they had arrived in orbit above the Land of Smog and Gaslight. Much to Evan's displeasure, they hadn't even met a single Dersite ship. Still, Evan cheered himself up with the comforting thought that they would soon return to Skaia, and they would find _something_ to kill there, at least.

Putting his thought process on hold, he glanced over his shoulder, and called out, "We're here!" to which he practically _heard_ Chris shudder.

Chester mumbled something unintelligible, which left Evan wondering whether Chester was just being pissy because he was hormonal or something, or whether Evan had done something to warrant his irritation...again.

After a few milliseconds of pondering the cryptic question, Evan realized he really didn't care, and that either way, Chester would cool down quick anyway. If he even _was_ upset, that is. Evan didn't bother pretending to be a good people person.

Retiring his attention to the swirling blue clouds of Chris's planet, Evan decided that he didn't like the look of the swirling clouds, and decided to not risk going "straight into" the planet, which could potentially lead to them getting caught in a massive storm (If that was, indeed, what the churning cloud forms were). Instead, he figured that they might approach one of the planet's poles, and try to enter one of the cloud formations from the side, rather than head-on through the top.

Gently tilting his steering controls to the left, he angled the Winnebago on a graceful course-correction, as it angled upwards, towards the planet's north pole.

They were close now. Really close. So it was in no time at all that they reached the planet's gravity well, and the Winnebago began to accelerate further. For the time being, Evan let it, warily keeping an eye on the various flickering gauges to make sure it didn't reach "uncontrollable speeds".

Dead ahead, the massive, cyclopean cloud formations dominated the horizon, a menacing wall of blue-tinged gray that completely blocked their sight. With a daredevil grin, Evan guided the winged camper straight into the churning mass, hoping it wasn't a storm.

To his mild relief, the clouds just seemed to be smoke, or something, that had got caught in the atmosphere, and was being spun around by the winds.

Though, as powerful winds buffeted the Winnebago, threatening to flip them over, Evan realized that simply because this wasn't a storm, didn't mean that it was one-hundred percent "safe".

Cursing, he fought to stabilize the unaerodynamic craft, throwing his considerable strength behind the steering rudders, until, finally, the wind had slackened off.

Seizing the opportunity, he cut the engines and sharply dropped the Winnebago down a few thousand feet, (much to the sudden shock of his passengers) only refiring the engines once they had cleared the damnable smoke cloud. Or, rather...smog cloud...

Though, "clearing it" was all relative. It was less smoggy down at their current altitude, but it was still frustratingly difficult to see. Evan was nonplussed though. He had already toured Chris's planet before, so it certainly held no danger for him now...

He then loudly swore as a massive clock-tower sprung at him from the hazy fog around him. Thinking swiftly, he threw the Winnebago into a screeching left turn, that probably put way too much stress on the wings, and just barely avoided a full head-on collision.

With death narrowly avoided, he slowed the camper to a crawl, and took stock of the situation. Behind him, Chris was still screaming, and Chester was loudly demanding answers about the rough maneuvering.

Sheepishly, Evan called back, "Sorry, a...thing got in the way..."

"Flying too fast?" Chester called forward, saying it as more of a statement than a question,

"...No..." Evan slowly answered, "Its just hard to see stuff up here, what with the damn smog and all,"

"Really now?" Chester snarkily responded, "Do try to use your sharp eyes to keep a better lookout from now on. Okay?"

"Stop nagging," Evan grunted, "Don't make me come back there..."

Chester simply snorted at that, and returned to being quiet.

With the brush with death avoided, Evan resumed flying above the unending city below, though, at a smaller speed. He kept an eye out for the stone towers he had seen on the other two planets, though this time, he figured they'd be easier to spot, since there were no hills or anything clogging the skyline.

Soon, he found out that "Easier to spot", didn't necessarily guarantee that it would be close by. Frowning in annoyance, he cautiously picked up speed, frequently scanning the horizon as the Winnebago flew.

Beneath them, was an unending carpet of streets and houses, small lights twinkling in the gloom. Once again though, he could care less about the sight, (though he was pretty sure that Chris and Chester found it wonderful).

After what felt like forever (it kinda was, considering his cassette player was beginning to repeat songs), Evan noticed something in the distance that loomed over the rows of houses around it. (and it probably wasn't the bloody clock-tower...unless they had somehow circumnavigated the planet already...)

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Evan eased off the throttle, and gently moved the camper forwards, into the gloom.

"I think we're here!" he called back, receiving a resigned groan from Chris, and probably a silent nod from Chester.

As they approached the tower, Evan began to get a better view. Much like the others, it was a towering slab of sea-blue stone, that stretched upwards for a hundred or so feet, with a stone slab upon it's flat top.

Upon reaching it, Evan circled a few times, trying to figure out where the sloping ramp began, because he sure as hell wasn't going to do more walking than he had to.

Having found it, he brought the camper to a crawl, and began to slowly and precisely guide it directly over the landing site he had picked out.

Since the pillar was in a flat piece of ground, devoid of buildings, he was able to land pretty much wherever he pleased. Pulling a lever back, he shifted the engine pods downwards, and began the camper's descent.

Shortly after, what was perhaps the smoothest landing he had so-far accomplished was complete. Evan took a moment to rejoice at his skills.

A second later, rejoicing was over, and it was time to get this over with. He had a murder-appointment with the Black King, and he wanted to waste as little time as possible before it could commence.

Getting up, and reaching into his backpack modus for his gas-mask, he walked into the central living quarters. Chris was curled up on the couch with a resigned look in his eyes.

"Lets...gethtisdone..." the young lad said, and (though he would never admit it) he felt a twang of sadness at that,

Chester, for his part, simply crossed his arms and muttered, "I'm staying right here."

Evan nodded slowly, and replied, "Fine."

Turning to Chris, who was now unbuckled, he asked, "You ready?"

The smaller boy simply nodded in response.

Evan shrugged, and went to pick him up, (Internally annoyed that Chris couldn't just walk by himself. When did a pair of broken legs ever stop anyone?).

Chris began to feebly protest about his broken bones, and how Evan shouldn't put stress on them, but Evan gave no acknowledgment. He simply scooped Chris up, (ignoring his screams), and slung him over his shoulder.

As he approached the door, Chester stood up, and opened it for him, quietly murmuring "Good Luck. And bring him back."

Evan nodded, and exited, a protesting and mewling Chris held over his left shoulder.

Hopping onto the gravel outside the camper, Evan turned to the tower, namely the slope leading to the top, and began to walk.

As they reached the top, Evan was looking around for the strange aura that permeated the other two. Chester's had a cold, empty desolate feel to it (Kinda like space itself, now that he thought about it), and his own felt like violence and combat and glory (Which was kinda self explanatory...what with Rage and all). This tower though, had noting. There was nothing out of the ordinary here.

For a moment, Evan wondered if the tower was broken. But then, he noticed it.

A faint presence, just at the furthest reaches of his consciousness. Quiet, unobtrusive, and still. If he wasn't pushing his (considerable and well-honed) senses to their limits, he never would have even picked up on it. But there it was.

Walking forwards and ( _almost_ ) gently depositing Chris onto the slab, which held some strange...inverse version of Chester's buzz-saw logo, Evan stepped back, and looked around.

No doubt about it, there was definitely some sort of aura up here, faint as it was.

Chris lay back, (as there wasn't much else he could do without pain. Evan's painkillers only did so much) and said, "Youknow, Imstartingto havesecondthoughts..."

Evan scoffed, and pulling out his handgun said, "There is no choice here Chris, you either do this, or remain a complete cripple on the edge of death for the rest of your life, here and now, you must be brave,...now then, do you want the gun?"

Chris paused for a long moment, looking out over the shimmering blackness that coated his planet, and said, "...no...youdoit...please..."

Evan didn't see why Chris and Chester put so much drama into this crap, so he swiftly agreed, "Fine, on...five then,"

"One"

He slid the clip back and cocked the gun,

"Two"

Chris whimpered,

"Three"

"Fou...DAMMIT CHRIS!" Chris had suddenly rolled off the edge of the slab, and curled up against one side, trying to hide.

Evan walked over to him, and deadpanned, "I can see you,"

"Imscared,Evan" Chris squeaked,

"Yeah," the bigger kid replied, "I've heard most people are scared to die,"

"Youaren't?" Chris quietly asked, holding his aching sides, that roll hurt like hell...

Evan paused, and eventually said, "Well...no, I've been around death so much that, ...well... I've just grown used to it," Trying to gather his thoughts, he continued, gesturing with the gun "...like, one day I'll die, and...that's it, nothing I can do, there's no sense worrying about that,"

Then, Evan took off his gasmask, and looked Chris dead in the eye. "The thing about death, though, is that while I could care less if and when it comes for me, I can't do anything about it coming for...well, you guys...and...that's what really hurts, losing people is infinitely more scary than dying by yourself, in a way, living is harder than dying,"

"Still though," Evan resumed, "We have a King to violently murder, and I'd like to get on with that, you in?"

Chris tightened his fists, and nodded, a fierce glint in his eyes.

Evan picked him up, and roughly thrust him onto the slab.

Taking a few steps back, he said, "Okay then, on three this time,"

"One..."

"Two"

He fired.

Chris, in the middle of rolling away, was struck dead-center, and slumped back onto the blue stone, crimson blood beginning to flow from his chest.

Knowing the drill by now, Evan simply ejected the casing from his pistol, and turned around, so the bright lights could do their thing.

Sure enough, four ethereal blue lights faded into existence above the four corners of the slab. Bathing the area in a pale light, they serenely ascended to the sky.

Oddly, Evan noticed that, while the aura got more noticeable, it didn't seem to do much more than that.

Meanwhile, Chris's body began to lift into the air aswell, as if plucked upwards by invisible strings. The lights grew in intensity, until they reached a point where they could be seen across the entire planet. Evan, was feeling quite clever that he wasn't looking at it from the start.

As Chris's body rose higher, the lights began to increase their brightness, soon to reach a blinding crescendo...

XXXXX

Inside a gray hulled bulk transport, a golden robed young lad slumbered. His body began to subtly glow, attracting the curious attention of the pilot, who waddled over to investigate.

The small Dersite stared in wonder as the cargo bay filled with a blinding blue sheen.

XXXXX

Upon a Land of Smog and Gaslight, the blue light reached it's unbearable peak, at which point, it suddenly cut out, leaving a body to fall back to the ground, as a faint voice whispered in the back Evan's mind,

 _ **Arise, Thief of Void.**_

Sharply turning around, Evan saw Chris stretching, and looking absolutely ecstatic. Turning to him, the young lad simply cheered, "Nothinghurts anymore!"

 **A/N: To elaborate, Evan's Gog-tier powers as the Prince of Rage will be super-strength...and a really short temper when in combat. That will be about it. So, think of him as a flying hulk, with a chainsword and flamethrower.**

 **Other than that...that's about it. Please review, and thank you for reading. I hope to see you at the conclusion to this arc.**


	24. End of Act 1

**A/N: Hey guys.**

 **...This chapter took far longer than I ever anticipated, mainly for several reasons, so I hope you can forgive me. If I may be so bold though, I think it will be worth the wait. Firstly, due to a bunch of...shenanigans at school, I am now taking six courses in a single semester. For those unsure, that is two more than normal. On top of that, I have Grad stuff to do, as well as browsing Universities and looking for Scholarships. My past few days have literally been filled with all sorts of work until after 6:00, at which point I would be tired as heck.**

 **Also, Fallen London and Sunless Sea have been draining what little free time I had left.**

 **So, with all my heart, I apologize about the wait.**

 **Anyway, this chapter is easily the largest one yet, being almost two and a half times as big as the previous largest one, and a lot of stuff occurs here, so pay attention, various hints to future plot-points may be found...**

 **As always, I own nothing, save the OC's, I sincerely appreciate any and all reviews.**

 **And, without further ado, the chapter:**

Upon a land of Smog and Gaslight...

Chris was excitedly running around his quest slab, whooping in joy at being able to walk again, while a bemused Evan looked on. Pausing in his run Chris jubilantly cheered, "Thisissocool! Ifeelbetterthanever!"

"Yeah, I've heard that happens after having all your broken bones suddenly and majjykally fixed," Evan deadpanned with a faint smile,

As Chris walked over to him, Evan examined his costume, which was far less of a fashion abomination than Chester's. The plucky young thief (...literally now, apparently) wore Navy-blue robes, that, unlike Chester, were closer to an oversized shirt than full-blown robes. Upon his chest, was emblazoned the same swirling symbol that was carved into the slab behind them. For a hood, Chris wore something that could best be described as a deformed windsock. To complete the ensemble, Chris had a pair of knee-high mouse-gray boots.

Overall, Evan thought it was still fairly garish, but compared to his own (which was currently entombed within the darkest depths of his backpack, and would never see the light of day again) and especially Chester's, it was quite... _not bad_.

Stopping beside him, Chris hurriedly asked,

"Doyoulikeit?", gesturing to his god-tier robes, "Itinkthey'repretty cool."

"Mhm," Evan murmured, "I've...certainly seen worse.

"Still," Chris said, getting a far away look that signaled he was going through his inventory, "Ithinkit needssomething,"

He then uncaptchalogued various bits and pieces of his Black Harasser garb, and began to try them on, Re-captchaloguing parts that "didn't look cool,"

Eventually, Chris had decided on adding his sword-belt, his knight's helmet, assorted leather straps, satchels and buckles, as well as greaves for his arms and legs.

Presenting himself to Evan, Chris did a little twirl, as Evan inwardly grimaced and muttered,

"You look like you stumbled out of some back-country LARP session,"

"Iknowright!" Chris happily agreed, missing the thinly veiled jab,

Glancing around from his vantage point, Evan tried to get Chris back on track and asked, "Hey, do you know what powers or stuff you got yet?"

Chris stopped, and stiffened up, presumably making a face of intense concentration beneath his helmet.

"...no" he finally answered, feeling kinda disappointed.

"Well, at least we're pretty sure you should be able to fly," Evan consoled.

Chris perked up at that, suddenly getting a strange feeling like he was aware of this already...

Gazing into the sky, Chris prompted, "Sohowdoes thiswork?"

"Well..." Evan began, "You kinda just look where you want to go, and then, well, ...it kinda happens,"

Nodding, Chris began to stare intently into the sky.

"Don't be too disappointed if you can't do it at first," Evan suggested, "It took Chester a long time, and a complete accident to figure it out."

Then, to his complete shock, Chris rocketed into the air at immense speed, before swiftly disappearing in the swirling smog clouds above.

Beneath his gasmask, Evan narrowed his eyes in mild annoyance. That was even faster than he'd learned to do it...

XXXXX

In the sky above, Chris was having the time of his life. Though he wasn't sure how, he seemed to already know how to fly, and stop and turn, and do most of this stuff. Like some half remembered dream, his body almost automatically piloted itself to wherever he wanted to go.

For quite a long time, Chris absentmindedly soared through the smoke, twisting, turning, and flipping to his heart's content. After a while, the initial rush he'd once had wore off, and he paused, hovering in the cool, damp sky. Glancing down, he saw nothing but an inky carpet of blackness, dotted with oceans of twinkling lights. Even though he knew he _should_ head back at some point, Chris really didn't want to just yet.

Instead, he gracefully dropped into a dive, finally leveling out once he broke through the deeper parts of smog. Jubilant, and happy to simply be alive again, he flew low, over the unending rows of houses and cobbled streets. Below, he saw many of the small lizards staring upwards at him in wonder.

' _D'aaaawwwww_ ' he thought, smiling at the adorableness of the simpleminded creatures.

He was broken out of his thoughts (literally) by a lance of cobalt light that suddenly sprang at him out of the gloom. Acting on sheer instinct, eyes teary from the light, Chris threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding harm. He was suddenly, horribly reminded of an enemy he had faced on this very planet, not all that long ago...

After dodging, he had hesitated for a split second, which was enough for a second blast to strike him, swatting him from the sky, and sending him crashing to the street below.

Shakily, he got to his feet, and drew his sword. Heart pumping, sword hand shaking, he stared into the patchy darkness...

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, a flicker of movement drew his gaze...

Slowly and deliberately, he angled his sword, and turned to face the threat...

For a second, it's form was indistinct as it crept towards him, but within a heartbeat, it stepped out of the smoggy gloom.

It was just a lizard.

"MERP!" It declared, shattering the tomb-like quiet that had fallen over the yard.

Chris breathed out a relived sigh.

For a second there...he had thought it might have been another of those...skeletons...

The young lad shivered, and with a nervous laugh, spoke to the lizard, "Youknow,Ithoughtyou wereoneofthosethings...forasecondthere...hahahaha..." He trailed off, quietly muttering to himself,

The lizard simply let it's tongue dangle out, and once again, let out an obnoxiously loud "MERP"

As Chris was about to take off again, more cautiously this time, he heard a faint sound, growing louder with every passing moment...

Before he could even react, the source of the sound was upon them. Suddenly, something erupted out of the darkness at breathtaking speed, pulverizing the cobbled street beneath it.

Time seemed to slow, and for whatever reason, Chris' attention was focused on one thing.

The small lizard that was right in whatever-it-was's way...

Without a second thought, Chris lunged into it's path, towards the lizard.

As he went through the air, he got faint impressions of some massive shape to his right. Looking towards the lizard, he realized that he probably couldn't push it out of the way without hurting it.

Just before impact, inspiration struck him.

Time slowly resumed for him, and he went sprawling on the other side of the street. Less than a second later, the creature rushed through the area he and the lizard previously occupied, and slammed into a two-story house with enough force to go right through.

As dust, planks, and stone chips rained over the street, Chris quickly stole a glance at his False-Bottom Modus. To his weary delight, a small captchalog card had joined the others that were previously there.

A small card with a lizard emblazoned upon it.

Chris smiled.

The smile was soon lost as a window-shattering roar echoed throughout the entire area.

He drew his sword again, and really hoped that the fantasy-videogame metal would be enough to defeat whatever this thing was...

Just then, the creature slowly stepped out of the devastated house, shaking the earth with every step. It was absolutely colossal, a bipedal giant that towered over the one-story houses that lined the street. A single furious eye rested in the center of it's elongated head, and a beard of swaying tentacles framed it's face. It's body was covered in overlapping scales of what looked like natural armor.

'Giclops,' His mind subtly suggested,

Chris, being Chris, didn't even notice the strange knowledge, and just ran with it.

Sizing it up, he smiled. This was just like Light Souls, He wasted no time, and immediately proceeded to rush the creature's legs, intending to get underneath it's field of view. Something of it's size should be slow and ponderous. Easy to dodge.

Chris was then smashed out of his preconceptions of an easy fight by a large fist colliding with him at speeds he'd never expected from the massive ...Giclops.

He flew down the street a-ways, before skidding on the cobblestones, and coming to a stop. Strangely, he didn't feel very much pain from the experience. He would have sworn that such a blow should have broken bones, but yet ...nothing really happened.

Regardless, that was irrelevant at the moment. Adjusting his grip on his sword, Chris reconsidered his approach. The target was fast...but was it perceptive?

He darted into the shadows of an alleyway, and then proceed to crouch down, and slowly make his way along the shadowed edges of the street towards the Giclops...

The ponderous beast stared with it's single, monolithic eye at the dim street, yet didn't seem to notice him, which made Chris smile evilly...he was a master sneaker...

He was, once again sent out of his thoughts by a beam of blinding blue, which erupted from the Giclops, and tore down the street lengthwise.

Chris, fortunately, wasn't hit.

Though, that was small comfort as he could barely see, due to staring straight at the blast when it appeared. Knowing that he was most likely still hidden, he simply remained perfectly still, as he waited for his vision to clear.

Blinking painful spots out of his eyes, Chris looked up to see the behemoth hadn't moved. Instead, it was using it's lumpy nose to try and capture his scent.

Deciding that he was close enough to the target, planning to have his flight make up the distance, and desperately hoping his sword would actually do something, Chris lifted a foot into the air, and propelled himself at the target...

His movement evidently alerted the Giclops, who swung at him with deceptively swift blows, yet this time Chris knew what to expect, and sharply flew under the giant's fists.

Inside the enemy's guard, Chris sharply darted forward, and brought his blade across the Giclops' massive chest (fervently hoping it wouldn't just bounce off). To his immense relief, the sword cut through the armor, drawing blood and a pained roar.

As he then spiraled upwards and out of reach, he surveyed the damage...Which was pretty minimal, to say the least. Apart from making the Giclops mad, his attack was a tiny cut, at best.

Just then, the beast's tentacle beard parted, and the tell-tale glow of an energy blast appeared. Closing his eyes, Chris swiftly dropped, and narrowly avoided a blast that charred the air above him.

Pausing, he continued his planning. He could potentially bring it down like most Light Souls enemies, with a thousand tiny pin-pricks. Or...he could risk it all, and go for a totally suicidal assault to (literally) remove the enemy's head.

Being Chris, he naturally went for the stupidly unsafe option, and quickly propelled himself like a bullet towards the foe's face. Seeing the glow of another building attack, Chris made a minute course-correction, which made the beam narrowly pass above him, singeing the brown over-coat he wore.

Despite it's best attempts to swat him, Chris maneuvered between it's frenzied swipes, and found himself face-to-eye with the beast. Not wasting time, he unceremoniously stabbed it in the bulbous eye, and darted off again, followed by an agonized roar that shook the buildings around them.

The Giclops began to thrash in pain, indiscriminately firing beams that immolated surrounding houses. Trying to end things, and feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the screams of his foe, (Especially since things in Light Souls didn't seem to feel pain or fear) Chris swooped onto it's back, and proceeded to stab the heck out of it, until the anguished giant finally erupted into a shower of grist that blanketed the ruined street.

Lowering himself to the ground, while the grist disappeared into his storage, Chris leaned on his sword and panted heavily. Despite the rather disturbing nature of the fight, he felt rather elated. He'd just fought and vanquished a massively powerful enemy, with little damage taken to himself.

' _Ohmygosh,ifonlyChester orEvancouldseethis..._ ' He wished...

Chris was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind him, accompanied by slow clapping...

Sheathing his blade and turning around, Chris saw a pair of very familiar helmets exit the smoggy gloom...

"Nice one," Evan appraised, as he approached,

"Yousawallthat?" Chris asked, eyes glazing over in happiness,

"Mhm," Evan casually nodded, before adding, "I, _personally_ wouldn't have gotten hit that one time, but...for you, this is very good, indeed,"

"The mad bastard _demanded_ we let you take the giant alone." Chester angrily muttered, likely sending Evan an irritated glare beneath the helmet.

"Boy's got to grow up, and be a man someday," Evan retorted,

"You're not even a man yet. Though!" Chester exasperatedly pointed out. "You're thirteen. Stop calling yourself a 'real man'."

"Guys" Chris interrupted, "canwegobackto praisingmeformy awesomenessplease?"

"Sure Chris." Chester sighed, "That was admirable work back there."

"Yeah, not bad" Evan added, roughly patting Chris on the shoulder.

Chris nearly melted from the sheer amount of happiness he felt. If this was a dream, (Which might have been the case, seeing as Evan had almost never given such high praise before) then he never wanted to wake up.

Noticing that Chris had been quietly staring off into space for about a full minute, Chester nudged him, and jolted him back to the present.

"Huh?" Chris stammered,

"Can we go now please?" Chester exasperatedly asked, "We're losing time as is."

Chris made to respond, but paused upon noticing something out of the corner of his eye...

Or, rather...a lot of somethings...

"Ummmmguys..." He stammered, pointing down the street, behind them.

Evan whirled around on the spot, chainsword brandished menacingly, while Chester simply uncaptchalogued the Undertaker, and unceremoniously turned around.

Behind them, the dim street was filled with a chittering mess of what appeared to be goblins, with the unsettling skeletal forms of a few liches scattered about the mass.

Chris gulped. While he felt super-cool after taking down the big thing, he was _really_ not looking forward to ever encountering one of the skeletons again. Though he hadn't slept since the incident, he was fairly certain that those ghostly eyes would haunt his dreams for a good few years to come...

Uncertainly, Chris drew his sword again with shaking hands.

As Evan was about to recklessly charge forwards, a noise from behind him his attention...

Glancing back, Chris froze.

Behind them, the street was filled with yet more goblins, three hulking ogres mixed among the crowd.

Turning fully to face them, he nudged Evan, who grunted and took a glance backwards.

Noticing the danger, Evan simply commanded, "Chester, you and Chris deal with the guys up front, the ogres are mine..."

With that, Evan revved his sword, sending the tiny teeth along it's blade into furious motion, and charged into the massed ranks of goblins behind them, bellowing a downright frightening roar.

Chris wasn't exactly sure, but it kinda seemed like Evan was moving faster that he normally did... Then, Chester began charging his weapon, who's unearthly energies and whispers startled both Chris, and the enemies into motion.

With at least a few hundred screeches and roars, the spindly goblins in-front of him began to charge, the Liches at the rear launching their first few projectiles.

Though Chris had no idea how he was supposed to actually fight the literal wave of blackness and claws that was rushing towards him, it didn't deter him from pointing his sword at the rushing mass, and preparing to furiously backpedal whilst swinging indiscriminately.

As the horde grew closer, the first shots from the liches began to hit around him, prompting Chris to hop to the left to avoid getting hit. Then, a lance of searing blue light erupted from behind him, nearly flooring him with the sheer wave of terror that radiated from it. The blast struck the onrushing mob dead-on, and tore a gaping hole in their ranks, blasting many of the goblins into grist.

Then, as Chester switched to wildly inaccurate single shots, the wave hit.

Rather than simply washing over them like a wave, the goblins simply came to a stop in-front of him, and began trying to claw at him in all their multitude.

The fight quickly spun into a rhythm of 'stab' 'step back' 'cut' 'block' 'step back' and 'thrust'. Chris cut down scores of the goblins, but more simply took their place. He fought like he never had before, feeling his arms burn from the sheer strain of unendingly swinging the sword.

Every now and again, a bolt of blue would fly through the air, showing that Chester was still fighting on...somewhere.

Once, Chris risked a glance backwards to check on Evan, but all he saw was a teeming mass of goblins and grist covering the street.

He had no idea how long he was there, and, though it was probably just a few minutes, it felt like an eternity. More and more of the goblins fell to his blade, and, eventually, the flood of enemies shrunk to a trickle.

As lances of unholy energy once-again began punching holes in the goblin ranks, Chris concluded that Chester must have gotten free of his assailants. Forcing a last exertion from himself, he swiftly moved forward, blade cutting and thrusting with maximum efficiency and, finally, the goblin ranks collapsed, with the last one shattering into grist before him.

Planting his sword into the ground, Chris collapsed onto the handle. He was too tired to even feel gleeful over how awesome he was for standing against a massive wave of enemies.

Then, as his unfocused vision saw movement in the distance, namely, a certain blue glow... his heart dropped...

The liches.

He'd forgot about the Liches.

Who, had cheerfully spent the entire fight charging their energy blasts...

He was too tired to properly run away.

He could throw himself to the side, but at this range, and with three of them, he doubted they could miss.

As he saw a blue flash before him, he threw himself to the ground.

For a few moments, as a wave of heat passed over him, he felt alright.

But then, he looked up to see a blast headed straight for him.

Unable to even move in time, it hit him dead-on.

…

…

…

For a few seconds, Chris thought he had died again, but when he realized he could still think, he opened his eyes in bewilderment. He was still laying on the street, but the ground beneath him was charred and glassy... Looking at his body, Chris saw that he was unharmed. To further add to his confusion, he just then realized that he couldn't feel the street he was laying on. In fact, he felt...colder now, less whole. Glancing back at his arms, he noticed them faintly shimmering, and, with utter horror, that he could sort-of see through them.

' _AmI...aghost?_ ' Chris thought, shuddering.

His half-baked theory was swiftly debunked as he suddenly felt a warming sensation. Then, he realized it was because the charred ground was starting to singe his over-coat. Yelping, he hopped up, and scampered off the burned strip.

Now standing, he noticed the Liches, who were, once again, about to fire at him. Deciding that his exhaustion could wait, Chris tensed and prepared to dodge, only to sigh in relief as a flurry of shots from behind him brought down each of the skeletal wizards.

A concerned Chester then ran up to him, frantically asking, "Holy shit! Are you alright? What happened?"

Chris looked at his body for injuries, noting that it no longer seemed transparent, and answered, "...ithinkI'mokay...why?"

Chester relaxed slightly at the explanation, took a step back, and quizzically inquired, "...You didn't see what happened?"

"Err...no?" Chris replied, confused.

"Well..." Chester paused, flustered, "You were in the way of a beam. And...for a second there...I'd thought you'd died. But then. The smoke cleared. And there you were. In the line of fire. Completely unharmed."

Chris was taken aback. He was suspecting something of the sort had happened, but for Chester to confirm it, was genuine proof that _something_ had happened, anyway.

"Do you have any idea at all what might have happened. Chris?" his friend continued, excited to unravel yet more of Sburb's secrets,

"Wellyeahactually..." he began before being interrupted by Evan's approach,

"Well that was a nice warmup," Evan idly commented, fiddling with the handle of his chainsaw-sword,

"You call that a warmup?" Chester asked, nonplussed, "You. Against easily a hundred goblins. Plus three bloody trolls...Wanna explain how you're even alive right now?"

Evan removed his helmet, placing it in his backpack, smiled, and began, "Well, to be perfectly fair, the ogres were a big help in killing their friends, also, the ogres themselves are pretty shite combatants... so, once again, **warm-up** " He finished, deliberately emphasizing the last word,

Chester thoughtfully brought a hand to his chin, and commented, "I rather think that some god-tier powers may have given you just a _small_ edge." Turning to Chris, he continued, "Did you notice how Evan moved way faster than he normally did?"

Chris nodded, remembering noting that strange observation before the battle started, before snickering internally. ' _Observation_ ', he was starting to use ' _Chester-words_ ' now, gosh, he felt so smart.

Chester meanwhile, continued his lecture, despite Evan's surprised comments about "not noticing anything out of the ordinary", "And another thing Evan. I must confess. The part that absolutely solidified my hypothesis. Was that one time you shoulder butted an ogre... Who weighs...like...twenty point...six times as much as you...assuming similar bone and muscle density(thanks, super-brain)... THROUGH A BUILDING!"

Evan just shrugged, and replied in a mildly concerned tone, "Chester...I don't remember any of that..." quietly pausing for a few moments, Evan thoughtfully stared at his sword for a few seconds, before slowly resuming, "...To be honest...I don't even remember very much of the fight...what the hell is going on?"

"Well. Fortunately for you. I saw most of it...in between trying to fend off melee combatants with a blunt rifle. Of course." Chester softly replied, "I saw you fight. Evan. ...It was horrifying. There were no *Ogre team-kills* or anything of the sort. You charged in and hit them like a freight-train. Honestly...it seemed like some of the front-liners died outright from the impact alone...Then...you started swinging that sword of yours so quickly I couldn't even see it. At that point. I was getting rushed and had to look away..."

Evan was quiet for a long time, and a brief flicker of uncertainty flashed across his face, before being replaced by his usual cock-sure bombastic grin, and he said, "Well, whatever the case may be for my superpowers, at least I'm still a one-man communist killing machine!"

"Still not a *man* yet" Chester coughed,

Bored, Chris interrupted, "Socanwego backtotalking aboutmeplease?"

"Of course. Chris. Sorry about that...it's just that some people" he looked pointedly at Evan "Are inconsiderate and rude" Chester kindly replied,

Evan simply made a rude gesture at Chester, and motioned for Chris to continue,

"Well...didyouguysseeme?Itwassoocool!Iwasfighting,likealltheguys!andthenIdodged ashot...by...notactuallydodgingit?" he excitedly rambled, eager for praise,

"Well," Evan began, "It certainly pales in comparison to the absolute single-handed extermination I'm told I've carried out...but it certainly was a good job Chris, Nice one," he finished his glowing praise, and leaned out to hi-five Chris,

Slapping Evan's hand, Chris positively glowed from the heaping levels of praise he had earned, all of his earlier exhaustion forgotten.

Then Chester butted in, analytically asking "But what about that...ability you displayed...The blast failed to hit you. Yet you didn't move. And it charred the ground at your feet. Is this perhaps your god-tier power?"

Chris paused to think for a moment...As far as he knew, the projectile should of hit him...but it didn't...then, there was all that business with the brief transparent-ness...He knew there was an obvious answer here, but it just wasn't coming to him.

After several more minutes of intense concentration, and reviewing the facts several times, (Like Chester had shown him, gosh, he was just becoming a real scholar-warrior today, wasn't he?) an idea finally struck him...

"IVEGOTIT!" He loudly declared,

"...Really now?" Chester asked, with thinly veiled sarcasm,

"YeahIfigured itout!" Chris happily announced, "So...Ithinkmygog-tier powersletmebecome incorporealforashort time,CuzInoticedthat myhandswere seethroughandstuff..." he excitedly elaborated,

 _That_ got Chester's attention, Chris noted with satisfaction.

"So...You mean to say. That you can *phase out*. And become intangible for periods of time?" Chester inquired,

"I...thinkso?" Chris replied,

To be honest, he wasn't a hundred-percent sure how it even worked, but, well...the strange stuff that happened kinda spoke for itself.

"Normally." Chester began, "I would start conducting tests to figure out everything about this potential new ability of yours. But..." he glanced at Evan "Someone's chomping at the bit to go already...so it sadly appears that Science will have to wait for now. In the meantime. Though. Just try to figure out how to work your powers. And attempt to be able to muster it on command."

Chris nodded at the instructions. He silently vowed to master his powers, and make Chester and Evan proud. After all, he'd already mastered flying...how hard could this be?

Bored with the conversation, Evan shrugged, and lazily muttered that he was going to head back to the camper, taking flight, and disappearing into the smog soon after.

Chester watched his departure, and turned to Chris, saying, "Yeah. We should probably go now... You're not hurt Are you? Still okay to fly?"

Chris hurriedly moved to reassure his friend, "Nononoeverything's fine,Ijust...needtodosome stuff...howboutyou goonahead? I'llcatchup"

Chester stared at him through his helmet for a second, before nodding, and ascending into the clouds, with all the wobbly, barely controlled grace that only the lanky nerd could achieve.

A few moments after Chester faded from view, Chris opened his fetch-modus, and found the small lizard card.

Uncaptchaloging it, he bid the diminutive reptile safe travels as it waddled away.

On a whim, he idly scanned his inventory again, only to stare in mild confusion at the lizard captchalog card, that was still in it's former spot.

' _Hmm..._ ' Chris thought, ' _that was certainly odd'_ ,

Opening and closing his modus, failed to remove the strange card.

Out of curiosity, he tried uncaptchaloging it. Surely, since the lizard it once contained was already roaming around somewhere, the card would do nothing...

Except, that when he did so, the same lizard popped out of his modus, loudly MERPed in his direction, and began to bumble around the street. Once again, the card remained in his inventory...

Acting on the faint ghost of an idea, he quickly tried uncaptchaloging it several times, to have several identical lizards spawn before him.

Captchaloguing one of them, failed to add another "lizard card" into his modus.

Once again, he tried uncaptchaloging it a few more times.

A few more lizards appeared.

The card remained unchanged.

He was beginning to see a pattern here...

Though he had no idea what was going on, Chris was beginning to formulate new, and very cunning theft plans, if this card really did produce lizard clones...Though, Chester would insist on testing the heck out of it, to determine all sorts of science words about it, so Chris decided to keep it a secret for now...

While he would have loved to hang around, and play with more lizards, he figured that he was already running late, and he absolutely wouldn't dream of disappointing Evan, so Chris took off into the swirling fog above.

With deft speed and agility, Chris maneuvered through the (completely empty sky), with pin-point precision and daring aerobics, flying beneath the fog layer, nearly hitting the roofs.

Soon, the Winnebago was in sight, and he gently swooped down upon it, coming to a full landing just outside it's door.

Knocking, waiting a few seconds, then entering, he was greeted with the sight of a very "Sciency" Chester, furiously taking notes on his laptop, while a bored, helmet-less Evan lounged about the kitchenette.

Seeing him enter, Evan immediately brightened up, and without a word wandered into the driver's cabin. Chester simply disinterestedly grunted, and buckled up, eyes never leaving his laptop.

Seeing nothing else to do, Chris sat down opposite Chester, and buckled up aswell.

As the engines began to sputter and shake, Chris leaned in and began trying to get Chester's attention.

"Chester..."

"hey"

"Heychester"

"heyheyhey"

"HeyChester"

Chester simply grunted, and uncaptchalogued his helmet, trying to drown out Chris.

Whatever else Chris had to say was lost, as the Winnebago suddenly jerked upwards and forwards, engines reaching a deafening roar.

Chris was pushed backwards into his seat, while Chester was thrust forwards, held in place by his restraints. None of this seemed to bother the other boy, though, as he simply stopped writing, and held his computer tighter.

With Chester not co-operating, Chris let out a "huff", crossed his arms, and simply contented himself with staring out the window at his planet.

As the Winnebago rose higher into the atmosphere, the entire surface of his planet looked like a shimmering carpet of Christmas lights, twinkling in the soft darkness. He sighed happily, savoring the sight, trying not to think about what would happen once they reached Skaia...

XXXXX

Chester was absentmindedly tapping away at his laptop, as the Winnebago gracefully approached the looming orb that was Skaia.

Currently, he busied himself with organizing all of the assorted events that had happened to them, and all the information they had so-far pieced together. Super-powers, Ramblings on the state of the universe (courtesy of Harold), strange ecto-biological babies, mysterious individuals that knew far more than they let on, potentially undiscovered God-tier powers, and much more was being sorted into a multi-collumed spreadsheet file.

Chester was a wiz with finances and accounting applications, so it was child's-play for him to configure his favoured spreadsheet program into a repository of knowledge, where he could visually display everything they knew so far, and hopefully, draw some form of meaningful conclusions from the jumbled mess.

So far, though, he was at a loss.

They knew quite a bit, but at the moment, there were various "holes" in their information base. For starters, this mysterious user that had contacted him, had also apparently spoken to Evan, and arranged the series of events that led to his return to the living.

Chester involuntarily shuddered at the thought of dying. Though he remembered none of it, the thought of it, alone, was more than too much for a child's fragile psyche to take in.

What didn't make sense though, were the now visible gaps in the story. Who was the user? What did they want, and why were they helping them? At this point, Chester was pretty much certain that, whoever it was, was trying to manipulate them towards something or other. With no idea what that "End goal" even was, he saw no real way to even try to escape the user's influence. At this point, the only one of them that hadn't been contacted yet, was Chris. Knowing the other boy's naive gullibility, Chester resolved to talk to him at some point, to try and make sure he wouldn't get any "funny ideas" about carrying out the often bizarre requests of the stranger.

Besides the internet stalker, there were other irons in the fire that called his attention.

On the one hand, both his new knowledge, and Harold were mentioning some form of frog named "Bilious Slick", who was supposed to become the new universe, or something.

Once again, though, there were holes in the story.

Based on extrapolation of some of Harold's statements, and much inference from instructions his brain was demanding he do, Chester was under the impression that there was more to the "new universe" story that met the eye. Stuff that involved frog breeding, and building large towers upon their planets. Yet, he had heard nothing of the sort from Boreall, which once again, left him in the dark, and annoyed about it.

There were other inconsistencies, but at this point, he was just getting tired of staring at the "Conspiracy graph" he'd made, which seemed to mock him with its hidden secrets, held tantalizingly just out of reach.

Closing his laptop and captchaloguing it, he turned to Chris, with a somewhat apologetic smile, for ignoring the other kid all the way to Skaia.

"Hey Chris." he slowly began, "Sorry for...you know...ignoring you the whole way. I just had important scientific work to do. And it couldn't wait."

"ItsokayI understand" Chris reassured, completely and utterly happy, "Iwasjust botheringyoucause Iwasbored"

"Right..." Chester trailed off, "Say. Have you ever been contacted by that guy that approached me and Evan on pesterchum?"

For a flicker of a second, Chris froze, uncertainty visible in his eyes...

Though, Chester missed that entirely as he was fairly bad at talking to people.

"no" Chris quickly replied,

"Good." Chester nodded, "If he does. Let me know. Okay? I don't think that fellow can be trusted."

Once again, Chester missed the look of conflict on Chris face.

"...AlrightI'lltry" Chris replied,

"Good...Good." his friend mused, listening absentmindedly to the hum of the camper's engines.

A welcome silence fell upon the pair, only broken when Evan called from up front, "We're here!"

Perking up, Chester quickly stood up, and followed by Chris, made his way up front.

Walking into the cabin, Chester sat in the passenger seat, allowing Chris to stand between the two seats. For a few moments, all three simply watched as the gargantuan Skaia loomed ever closer.

Chester decided to break the silence, by turning to Evan, and already knowing the answer, asking, "So. Do we want to come up with a plan this time?"

To his utmost surprise, Evan didn't object, and merely grunted,

"Ithinka plansounds good," Chris agreed,

With that answered, Chester had yet one more question to ask,

"Do you guys want me to plan it?"

Evan nodded, Chris excitedly babbled, "yesplease butcanI help?Iloveplans"

"Sure Chris." Chester said, "Though. There's not much to plan. Really."

Staring intently at Skaia's clouds, Chester continued, "Basically. So long as we avoid sprinting like idiots into a second battle...we should be good. For starters, we could lower a window. Stick the undertaker out and do a few flybys...or..." he glanced at Evan, "We could just have you fly straight at his head at a sufficient velocity...and that should pretty much end it."

"Wecouldall approachfromdifferent directionsandattackatthe sametime" Chris suggested,

"Yeah." Chester approved, "Whatever we do. It needs to be coherent and organized."

Evan didn't like strategy, but he (reluctantly) agreed as well, "Fine then, we'll organize things, ... Worst case, we'll just use the quest beds a second time,"

"Actually. I-" Chester began to interject, before Evan briskly interrupted him, saying "Yeah, we're getting into atmosphere, Chris, get back and strap in, Chester, buckle up,"

Chester complied, sliding the seat-belt into position while Chris walked back.

Sure enough, a half minute later, the Winnebago began to thrash and shake, as it entered Skaia's atmosphere. Even seeing it a second time, Chester just couldn't get over the unique beauty that the planet held.

All across the horizon, the black and white tiles that made up the surface stretched on, punctuated by occasional landmarks like forests, rivers, and mountains.

As their descent continued, the windshield began to glow under the extreme heat of entry, while the tremendous stress upon the camper's frame increased. The strange thing was, his brain said that the stresses should have snapped the steel frame that housed them like a twig, yet, the Winnebago didn't seem affected by the stress in the slightest. Though it pained him, Chester simply filed the strange occurrence under "Sburb Majjyks", as it seemed to be a convenient explanation for stuff that defied the laws of physics, and seemed to only happen because the game willed it to.

Still, the inertia of the descent was still real and applicable, he noted, while being pushed deeper and deeper into the seat. Sburb just made no sense to a man of science. Even for majjyk, it didn't seem to follow any logical rules. Inertia didn't seem to apply in space, as they had somehow outrun a massive warship with engines bigger than the camper, yet once they entered a planet, the laws governing inertia suddenly decided to start working again.

Chester released an annoyed sigh as the pressures of the descent slackened off.

Soon, they had gotten through the atmosphere, and were flying above the cloud layer, looking for the Black King, based on the thought that a near mountain-sized giant couldn't be difficult to find.

...

...

XXXXX

Chester let out yet another irritated sigh.

He had lost track of how long they had indiscriminately been flying around the planet, looking around for their foe. Chris was somewhere in the back, looking out the rear windows, constantly shouting, "NOTHING...STILLNOTHING...ALSONOTHING!"

Evan, finally losing his temper, shouted, "WE GET IT CHRIS!"

The mousey thief instantly shut up, and let out a frightened squeak of "sorry"

Chester shot Evan an annoyed glare.

Evan held his gaze for a few seconds, shrugged, and called back, "Sorry Chris, I didn't mean to yell" (While muttering something about totally meaning to)

"It'sokay" Chris replied, happy once again.

Chester went back to scanning the unending tiles beneath them, annoyance slowly building up. ' _Seriously,_ ' he thought, ' _Where the hell was the Black King? How could something so big hide so easily?_ '

"Where is that bastard?" Evan growled, seething at the cowardice of the enemy,

Chester was beginning to sympathize with Evan's frustration. At this point, with all their fruitless searching, he too, was beginning to get mildly peeved.

Just then, Evan's laptop beeped from within his backpack, which he had lying in the spot between seats. Demonstrating yet more impeccable judgement, Evan began fishing in his backpack with one arm, while somehow trying to steer the flying camper with the other arm.

Chester knew that protests would go unheard, so he simply readied himself to take the wheel if necessary.

Fortunately for everyone, (as Chester really didn't fancy practising his non-existent driving skills,) Evan quickly dug out his laptop, and...promptly put it on his lap, and began trying to read pesterchum and drive at the same time, (Yet another great idea).

"Seriously Evan?" Chester muttered in exasperation, "Give it here. You focus on not crashing"

After much grumbling, Evan was persuaded to surrender the laptop to him.

Unfolding it, Chester navigated to the "New messages" tab, and narrowed his eyes.

It would appear that an... _old acquaintance_ was making itself known again...

- **ErrOR0124nOtFounD[! ]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

$#: _Greetings Chester._

EE: How do you even...never-mind. What do you want now?

&$: _Let us put this senseless hostility to rest, there are larger matters at hand._

EE: What? You mean like the fact that the Black King has vanished?

EE: Cause if you have more of your 'esoteric wisdom' about his whereabouts to share.

EE: It would be appreciated.

*#: _In fact, I do have knowledge pertaining to his location._

 _%^: I find myself disappointed that you have not figured it out yet._

 _#*: Must I hold your hands through the entire game?_

EE: Look. Just tell us where he is. And go away.

%&: _...Very well. The Black King is upon his Dreadnought, receiving medical care._

 _& *: In case you need it simplified even further. The REALLY Big ship._

 **ErRoR0124NoTFoUnD[%^]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

"Asshole." Chester muttered under his breath. Still, at least they now knew where the Black King was. They had seen the large ship, along with it's escorts several times now, but they had no reason to get in range of such a collection of fire-power so (With much protest from Evan), the ships were given a wide berth.

Turning to Evan, Chester began explaining the new information, "So...It appears that our...mutual manipulative friend knows where the King is."

Evan noticeably perked up, but kept his attention on the driving (flying), "What?" He shouted, "WHERE IS THAT COWARDLY COMMUNIST HIDING!?"

Ignoring Evan's outbursts, Chester continued, "Apparently. It appears that he's been hiding inside that massive ship this whole time."

"You mean the really big one, the one with all the smaller ships escorting it?" Evan asked, horrible, horrible ideas beginning to form...

"...Yes" Chester hesitantly answered, eyeing Evan's growing grin with apprehension. He had no idea what Evan was planning, but it without question wasn't safe or reasonable.

"That ship of his..." Evan began, idly nudging the wheel, and sending the Winnebago into a sharp turn, "It was quite a ways back, wasn't it?"

Chester thought back to when they had last seen the Dersite fleet, far in the distance. That was about...twenty minutes ago, the ships were stationary...over a forest or something.

As Evan finished the turn, and they began retracing their steps, Chester added, "They were about twenty minutes behind us. As far as I can recall. Not sure if they were moving...but we should still try to step on it. Think we can make it in ten?"

Evan grinned maniacally, "I can make it in five,"

With that, he promptly aligned the engine chaff-pods into a fully horizontal position, and floored the accelerator, pushing everyone into their seats, as the camper ripped across the sky like a fighter-jet.

As they screeched towards their goal, Chester could only think of one thing to say, "DAMMIT EVAN!"

XXXXX

True to his word, Evan brought them within sight of the Dersite ships within five minutes. (Well, six point five, but who's counting (besides Chester))

The enemy fleet was seemingly moored in high atmosphere, each ship shaped like a violet arrowhead, bristling with cannon and crenellations. The massive dreadnought (which Chester's mind guesstimated at about four-point five kilometres long), floated in the center of the formation, while six other vessels, larger than the one they had previously encountered, encompassed it upon all sides.

If the smaller vessel's fire-power was any indication, this would be a very tough nut to crack...

Evan brought the Winnebago to a hover, about ten kilometres out, while they decided upon a plan of action.

Chris shuffled forwards, and stuck himself between the seats.

"Alright." Chester began, "We ultimately need to get to the dreadnought and eliminate the Black King. All the ships defending it though. Will be a problem."

"Alsowedon't knowwhereheis" Chris chimed in,

"Right. Good call." Chester appraised, before adding, "The biggest problem though. Will be finding a way to board the Dreadnought. The escort's fire won't be a problem if we can just dart to a pre-determined point and get inside quickly."

"Theredon'tappear tobe anyvisibledockingbays." Chris added, squinting

Chester once-again cursed his mediocre vision, and nodded.

Evan, who had been silent the whole time, piped in, with a very disturbing grin on his face, "I have an idea to board it," he said, ferociously smiling,

Chester didn't like where this was going...

"What?" He hesitantly broached,

"...Well, remember my earlier idea to go right through the bridge windows?"

"God no! That's idiotic!" Chester exclaimed,

"Ithinkit couldwork," Chris said,

"Yeah, we hit it hard enough, and we'd be in the command bridge, and have total surprise on them," Evan added,

Despite every rational part of him telling him this was apocalyptically stupid, Chester's mind also said that the bridge windows were made of glass, and the Winnebago hitting it at even a low velocity would go right through with minimal effort and light damage.

For a few moments he paused, carefully considering the alternatives, before nodding.

He just hoped the element of surprise outweighed the risks.

Before Evan could dismiss Chris and start the engines, Chester added, "We also need to figure-out what to do once inside. I vote to act as a single group. And to clear the ship room-by-room until we find the target."

Evan looked at him for all of a second, shrugged and said, "Sure, let's go with that,"

He then promptly dismissed Chris, and, after several moments, began accelerating towards the orbiting fleet.

As they approached, Chester wondered once-again about how the Dersites _still_ couldn't detect them in any way-shape-or-form. It was honestly as if they had no radar or similar devices. How a species could invent space-travel and lazer-weaponry, and still rely on sight to navigate and fight was beyond him.

Although...it did begin to explain the stupid, exposed, glass command bridges.

Anyway, as Chester was left pondering, Evan promptly set the radio to a pulse-pounding song, slammed on the accelerator, and sent the Winnebago speeding straight into the cordon of ships.

As they closed, the Dersites seemed to finally take notice of them, and as the Winnebago came ever nearer, hundreds of turrets, big and small, swivelled to face it.

For a second, time seemed to slow, as Chester got a very good look at all the barrels that were now aimed at them.

Evan suddenly cut the engines.

The Lazers fired.

The air around them practically boiled from the sheer weight of fire thrown their way.

Brilliant lances of vermillion energy cut across the sky, while streaks of small violet bolts zipped past in rapid bursts. The entire sky was practically filled with burning lazer-fire.

Yet, as Chester tightly gripped his seat in terror, Evan was cool and collected, methodically nudging the camper this way and that to avoid being incinerated.

Every so often he would throw them wildly to the left or right, narrowly avoiding a searing lance of light. But despite the seeming vastness of the heavier lazer batteries and the beams they cut across the sky, Evan quickly found the smaller burst defences to be far more dangerous, as they maintained a constant stream of shots at him, and quickly shifted their aim to track him.

Though the journey of several miles towards the fleet took naught but a few minutes, it felt like hours. Towards the end, the enemy turrets had begun to anticipate his manuvers, and despite his best flying, he fully expected to soon be boxed in by fire, and have nowhere left to evade.

Mercifully, by that point, they had arrived.

Throwing the steering controls upwards, he brought the Winnebago tightly beneath one of the escort ships, and flew as close to it's violet hull as possible.

Enemy fire practically evaporated in an instant, as they were unwilling to target their own. 'A mistake that would soon cost them,' Evan maliciously grinned,

For whatever reason, the Dersite ships had no defences along the bottoms of their vessels, which severely hindered their attempts to deal with the pesky camper. In sheer bewilderment, several of the vessels broke formation, and began chaotically manoeuvring, while some still fired blindly into the sky.

The vessel above them began to lift upwards, no doubt trying to shake them off, but Evan didn't care, he was already at his real target, anyway...

Like a tiny gnat, the camper shot up from beneath the rising warship, and launched itself straight at the gargantuan dreadnought that hung in the center of the fleet. At this range, for whatever reason, the turrets seemed to have difficulty noticing them, and it was only after a good many seconds in the open, that the Dreadnought's vast staggered ranks of guns began to swivel towards them.

As Evan adjusted his course, aiming the Winnebago like an aluminium bullet towards the Dreadnought's overly exposed bridge, almost a hundred batteries fired at once. Evan spun the camper in a corkscrew ascending turn, but it was not enough. For a moment, heat filled the small metal box, and a horrifying screech of rent metal could be heard from somewhere behind them.

Evan had no time to even glance back, as at that exact moment, the ornate windows of the command bridge loomed in sight, and with a final nudge of the controls, he sent the Winnebago forward.

The sound of screeching metal combined with the hail of shattered glass, as the wounded, smoking camper plunged into the bridge...

For a few heart-beats, all was still.

Then, with a murderous growl, Evan had his helmet on, sword in hand, and was already out the door. Chester, still trying to return to normal breathing levels, shakily uncaptchalogued his gun and helmet, and staggered out behind him.

By this point, Evan was already outside, causing chaos and devastation, and Chris wasn't too far behind the young psychopath.

By the time Chester stumbled out the door, a shaky gun pointed into the depths of the ship, Evan was gone, hordes of mutilated bodies and several fires marking his trail. Curiously, it appeared that (somehow) Evan found a way through a locked bulkhead, as the thick metal door was violently rent inwards, as if a devastating force had ripped right through it...

Looking around the smoky bridge, Chester was fairly impressed. The bridge was a two-story room, with massive windows looking out into the chaos outside. Rows of burning monitors made up the lower floors, while the upper floor seemed to mainly consist of several large tables, and an ornate captain's chair. Large monitors were mounted on the walls, most of which were shattered by the Winnebago's sudden intrusion into the bridge.

Glancing around further, Chester really couldn't see any trace of Evan or Chris. Since Evan had left the bridge, he assumed that the Black King wasn't up here, and Evan had wandered off elsewhere.

Still, Chester was once again, not surprised that Evan had managed to ruin and completely ignore a plan in under five seconds. "Well then." he muttered to himself, approaching the devastated bulkhead, "If you idiots won't help me clear the ship. I'll just do it myself." Sighing, Chester carefully stepped over the jagged violet metal, and stepped through the doorway.

XXXXX

Evan was having a blast.

Like a derailed freight-train, he tore through the cavernous bowels of the ship. Various unfortunate Dersites that got in his way now littered his route, many resting in multiple pieces. Flying into a large intersection, he stopped, and dropped to the ground trying to get his bearings. Taking multiple heaving breaths, he felt his mind clear a little, as he turned around and stared at the sheer carnage he had wrought.

To be honest, he didn't even particularly remember much of what he did on the way here, it quickly turned into a hypnotizing rhythm of stabbing and thrusting and punching. So when he saw a thick steel(?) bulkhead ripped open, jagged metal protruding menacingly inwards.

' _Did...I do that?_ ' He wondered, glancing down at his hands.

He certainly didn't _remember_ doing it, but he didn't exactly see anything else around there that could have done such damage. Chester had also mentioned seeing him push an ogre through a building, but Evan had simply brushed it off at the time. Now though...he was beginning to think that there might be a lot more to his title as the Prince of Rage than just being easier to anger...

Then, a multitude of footsteps from one of the other corridors drew his attention.

A small group of Dersite soldiers, diminutive and clad in what appeared to be the armour equivalent of card-board, were rushing towards him, gun-like weapons of some sort drawn.

Evan smiled maliciously, revved his chainsword, and flew into their midst...

XXXXX

Chris was lost.

When Evan rushed out after the scary space battle was done, he had swiftly followed his friend out the door, and then into the depths of the ship. Somehow though, Evan was fast. Even faster than him, and Chris lost him in the identical, repeating hallways.

Now, Chris was wandering through the halls at random, trying to find Evan or Chester. After taking a few turns, he could swear that he was in this same exact violet corridor a few turns ago.

' _Why did all of these stupid halls need to all be the same?_ ' He dejectedly wondered.

Then, a brilliant idea struck him...

Before, upon his planet. There had been a strange incident where, according to Chester, it seemed like he had become incorporeal somehow... Though he had no idea how it happened, besides the fact that it saved him from getting blasted by an energy beam, Chris wondered if he could perhaps...replicate it...

...

Except for the fact he had no idea how to do that...

Closing his eyes, Chris concentrated as hard as he could. He stood like that for almost a minute, before impatiently opening his eyes...to see that his hands still weren't incorporeal.

Quite some time passed, while Chris tried new ways to unlock his powers, with little success.

Finally, quite thoroughly annoyed, he decided to simply sprint at a wall, and if his powers wanted to try and save him from harm, then he would have to automatically "phase out" before hitting it...or so went the plan, anyway.

Closing his eyes, he backed up a few paces, before running at the other side of the corridor wall. 'Any second now,' He anxiously thought, debating whether or not to stop.

Unable to take the thought of willingly hurting himself, he stopped and opened his eyes.

For a moment, he was confused.

The bright violet corridor was gone.

Instead, he was somewhere cramped, dark, and looking at what appeared to be a long line of pipes and wires. He was confused, until he glanced downwards and noticed the shimmering haze that permeated his body. Curious, Chris brought his arm up, and moved it towards one of the walls that tightly enclosed this space.

To his utmost delight, his arm passed through the wall without pause.

The young thief smiled in delight.

The practical applications of this new power were without number...

Even as he was thinking of new things to do, he glanced back at the pipes... Perhaps, he could do a bit of harm to the enemies in here...

Reaching to his belt and lifting his sword, Chris swung it down onto the pipes, only to have it pass harmlessly through. Sheepishly, he realized that he would need to "phase in", in order to actually affect the physical world again.

After a little bit of trying, he re-entered the real world, a relieving warmness flooding his body, and landed on the pipes with a soft *thud*. Beneath his helmet, he smiled. He was totally getting the hang of these powers now.

A single swipe of his cut the thick cords in two, and sent reverberating groans throughout the ship. Seeing the results of his handiwork, Chris wondered if there were more vital components aboard this massive, multi-kilometer ship...

But before he could get to those, he just had to phase out again...

"Thiscould takeawhile," he muttered sulkily.

XXXXX

Evan was walking through what appeared to be a dining area, which seemed hastily abandoned, with strange food and drink left on the tables, as word of his progress had no-doubt spread throughout the ship.

He smiled, ' _Let them flee, it makes no difference,_ ' the youth maliciously thought, before suddenly realizing that his thoughts had grown more...vicious as of late.

Not that that was a bad thing, of course.

Evan certainly enjoyed the deaths of his foes, but he certainly wasn't some sick bastard who tortured people, or delighted in mind-games. This level of joy in his enemies' fear made him rather uncomfortable.

As he slowly made his way forwards, darkly contemplating existential questions, the lights suddenly cut out across that whole stretch of ship.

"THE HELL?" He shouted in bewilderment,

XXXXX

In another section of the vessel, Chester cautiously made his way forwards. He was scouring the corridors before him for any trace of Dersite soldiers, as he had already run into several groups earlier. Said groups had required an embarrassingly large amount of shots to bring down, as he was neither particularly dextrous, or especially accurate.

Still, quantity made up for quality, and now here he stood. Once-again, having no idea where he was.

"Maybe we shouldn't have went off into the ship. And immediately rushed off in separate directions." He quietly grumbled, before adding, "Bloody idiots."

Undertaker drawn, he kept moving forward, silently wondering just why the hell this stupid ship seemed to have nothing but labyrinths of identical corridors inside of it.

He just wanted for something interesting to happen at this point. A group of Dersites, a new room, finding either of the two imbeciles he called friends...anything to break the monotony of endlessly walking down this bloody hallway.

Just then, he finally eased the end of the hall, coming to a large, sealed door.

' _Well. It seems Evan hasn't been this way..._ ' he thought, beginning to charge the undertaker, oping to blast through. He wasn't a hundred percent sure how much juice he should give the weapon, since his mind declared the door to be almost ten centimetres thick, so he just decided to charge it up for a while... what was the worst that could happen?

XXXXX

Chris silently flew through the dark innards of the mammoth warship.

After much trial-and(painful)error, he had mostly mastered the basics of his new powers, so he now contented himself with flying to an area with new cords and wires, unphasing, doing some cutting, and moving on to a new area to repeat the process.

Someday, he hoped, he could learn to _partially_ phase out, so he could cut stuff while still being incorporeal. But, before that could happen, there was work to do.

As he continued to hack away, the ship slightly trembled, prompting him to pause for a moment.

A few seconds passed with no more rumbling, so he shrugged and went back to work...

XXXXX

Evan was having a conflicted day.

On the one hand, he was having a great time causing chaos and devastation upon the filthy communist Dersites that tried to get in his way, but on the other hand, it was beginning to get boring, and he still had no idea where the Black King even was.

Quickly engaging his chainsword, and sharply flicking it to clear some...bodily fluids off the metal teeth, Evan began pondering his next move.

So far, he had mostly went downwards a bit, encountering little opposition, and then went straight along the vessel, only running into a few isolated groups of enemies.

Now, he was in some empty, cavernous area, upon a metal catwalk, looking down at all sorts of bridges and cables that crossed the gloomy pit beneath him. As he was considering flying downwards to a new level, his attention was grabbed by a piercing lance of hauntingly ethereal blue energy that appeared from somewhere above him, and lanced through a part of the bridge ahead of him.

As the narrow maintenance bridge began to buckle under it's own weight, Evan could only mutter a curse before he fell with it...

For about five seconds before he remembered that he could fly now, so he simply paused his descent, and returned his attention to the energy blast that had now faded. Judging from the very familiar aura that now permeated the air, it was pretty clear that this was Chester's handiwork.

Analyzing the holes carved in the ship further, Evan noticed that the hole marking the beam's entry into the cavernous room was very deep. He couldn't even see far enough to see where the beam had originated from.

As for the hole it punched on the other end of the room, he also couldn't see the end of it. What he could see though, was a lot of deformed and melted load-bearing walls and bulkheads.

Beneath his mask, he smirked. If Chester kept this up, the ship might just collapse under it's own weight.

Deafening, shuddering, groans that seemed to come from the metal itself quickly wiped the grin off his face, as the walls of the massive room began to buckle inwards, and the ceiling slowly grew closer, accompanied by the sound of shrieking metal.

As the walls closed in, and debris from above began to fall, he was preparing to punch his way out of the ship. Just then, with one last shudder the room (and about the entire middle of the ship) stopped crumpling, and seemed to settle.

Evan let out a sigh, muttered "Nice," and lowered himself to one of the still intact lower bridges. If there were next to no Dersites on the upper levels, then it only made sense for all of them, leader included, to be on the lower floors.

XXXXX

Chester slowly took his hands off his head, and cautiously exited his "Earthquake drill" position. Though the walls around him had crumpled like tin-foil, and the ceiling was so close that he had to walk hunched over, it seemed that he was still alive. Which was always nice.

Silently, he cursed himself for doing something so irresponsible and stupid, but he honestly had no idea that the results would be so...devastating.

He slowly shuffled forwards, awkwardly entering the glassy hole he'd created, and following it downwards. After all, it wasn't as if he had any better plans.

XXXXX

Elsewhere upon the vessel, a bed-ridden monarch was stirred from his slumber by a shaking in the walls...

Wearily opening his eyes, he glanced around the ornate bedroom that acted as his impromptu hospital. Several machines stood around his bed, whilst smaller servants and healers scurried around his bed like the lesser creatures they were.

Glancing to his bedside table, the Dark Monarch reassured himself that the **Ring of Orbs Three-Fold** was still there. Naturally, in order to bring him aboard, the ring which bestowed upon him the powers of all the prototyped kernel-sprites had needed to be removed, reverting him to his regular form.

Still, he felt quite vulnerable without it, and was anxious for the worthless servants of his to hurry up and attach his custom-built metal prosthetic arm. The moment when he'd finally leave this blasted bed was one he looked forward to greatly.

Despite all threats to his rule, save the lingering Prospitians being eliminated, his queen had insisted on taking no half-measures, so, he had a squad of his elite, black armoured Praetorians standing vigil over him, their mighty energy weaponry humming softly.

Still, there remained the matter of what had roused him. Rising slowly, he surveyed the room, noticing the spooked expressions on all of his minions' faces.

Seeing his glorious liege rise, one of his chief Admirals, by the name of...something he couldn't remember...Audacious Tactician...or something..., walked over to his bed, and squeaked something about his King needing rest, and not needing to concern himself with such matters.

He silenced the insipid whelp with a warning growl, and demanded to know what was going on. The Diminutive Officer then regaled him with a tale of how some strange rectangular object attacked their fleet, and rammed the bridge of his Dreadnought. Now, the ship was having strange power failures across the upper decks, and the structural integrity of their hull was growing dangerously low, to the point that if this continued, the very ship might snap under it's own weight like a twig.

The monarch then demanded to know what his minions had done about it, and what was actually going on in the upper decks. The response was infuriatingly vague.

Apparently, his minions knew nothing, as the power was out in the damaged areas, and with it, all of the security cameras and communications equipment. So they were totally blind to goings on upon their own ship.

He then raged at his quivering subordinate, and shouted at him to send teams of soldiers to scout the area. The Tactician promptly squeaked that teams had been sent out...only none had returned...

This caught the Dark Monarch's full attention.

Though his lesser warriors certainly were incompetent enough to wander off and get themselves killed with no enemies even present, the fact that multiple squads had disappeared inside his own vessel was...troubling, to say the least.

Still, he certainly knew how to deal with such situations.

Mustering his best authoritative tone, he commanded his officer to seal the affected areas, and send EVERY available soldier and marine to clear the areas. All squads would carry video-transmission equipment, and be in constant communication with him. Whatever was up there, would not escape...

As the Audacious Tactician saluted, and went off to execute his commands, the Black King turned to one of his trusted Praetorians, and gave a wordless nod. His elite knew what to do.

The elite soldier nodded slowly, moving his black, featureless faceplate up and down, before exiting the room, motioning for the other royal guards, save two, to follow.

While he certainly held no trust in the practically non-existent combat ability of his rank-and-file, the Black King knew that their skills didn't matter. All his soldiers needed to do was to find his mysterious foes, and alert his elite killers to their prey's location. His power-armoured veterans would take care of the rest.

Just then, the Head-Healer bid him to lie back down and relax, and he reluctantly complied. As he lay upon his bed, the Tactician returned with a gaggle of other officers, wheeling in a large monitor, which was displaying the progress of various infantry teams, as they made their way into the inky blackness of the "Dark Zone", as the rank-and-file had taken to calling it.

With a very slight hint of dread, the Black King intently watched the monitor, anxious for a glimpse of the attackers that were aboard his vessel at this very moment.

XXXXX

Evan felt like he was getting somewhere.

After the near-collapse in the large, open room, he was forced downwards, and onto a separate bridge. Said bridge had brought him into a well-lit area of the ship, which was full of metal lockers, benches, and other things that suggested that this might be a crew quarters.

Just as he was entering, a steel door on the other end of the room slowly creaked open, and several squads of Dersite soldiers nervously shuffled in.

Evan and the soldiers noticed each-other simultaneously, and froze. He quickly glanced over them, noting their regular assortment of swords and rifles, yet... one carried something that strikingly resembled a...movie camera?

The diminutive carapacians fumbled with their rifles and swords, while the camera operator tried to get a clear picture of Evan.

Evan meanwhile simply revved his sword, and ignited the primer-light on his flame-thrower...

The stand-off was broken when a soldier accidentally discharged his rifle into the ceiling. Terrified sword-wielding Dersites nervously shuffled forwards, whilst the other rifle troops aimed at Evan.

The young berserker, for his part, was not concerned. The small chess-people had such awful aim and were so slow that he honestly kinda pitied them a little... But not that much. They were still his enemies.

With that, he grinned maliciously, and stepped forwards, a primal anger roused within him...

XXXXX

The Dark Monarch was disinterestedly flicking through the various transmissions from his soldiers. So far, nothing had come in, and multiple sections of ship were designated 'clear'.

He allowed himself a smile, the noose was being drawn tighter and tighter, soon, the foe would have no-where left to run. They would be caught between the unbeatable hammer of his Elite Praetorians, and the anvil of his unending hordes of fodder troops.

Just then, something caught his attention.

Swiftly rising, he ordered the diminutive technician that was flicking through channels to go back. Terrified, the minion complied, and went back several camera feeds. The screen now showed a battle underway, somewhere in the lower Deck-H crew quarters.

The camera holder was mixed in with several squads of rifle-troops, who as always, were blindly firing in every direction, doing little to actually harm the enemy. The swords-troops, had fared worse, and were now in multiple pieces, decorating the walls and floor.

Excited at the prospect of having his prey in his grasp, the King gave a swift nod to his tacticians, who promptly dispatched new orders to the Praetorians, as well as commanding all his on-board soldiers to concentrate in the area. Victory was within his grasp...

As he was giving the orders, the camera jerked wildly, as if the recorder was fleeing, and brief glimpses could be seen of something entering melee combat with the rifle-troops.

The camera then proceeded to run down the hall a-ways, before some form of...spinning sword erupted from the recorder's chest, causing the camera to fall to the ground.

Just before it shut off, a very familiar Bi-pedal being could be seen...

The Black King sat in shock for a few moments.

One of the nobles? Here? Impossible. All had died by his hand!

But yet, there was the violet cloak the being wore...

It had all suddenly, horribly fallen into place.

One or more of his foes must have survived, and brought himself back through the power of the quest slabs...This meant that he now had at least one GOD-TIER aboard his vessel. The Dark Monarch tried to keep his composure, but inwardly, he was shaking. His Praetorians were good, arguably the best, but they were far from skilled enough to fight a god. Albeit a very young one, with little mastery of his powers, but a god nonetheless.

This required a change in plans.

Frantically shouting orders, he commanded for a shuttle to be made ready in the hangar bay, and for him to be moved to one of the other vessels.

Then, the Dreadnought would be scuttled upon the planet, and bombarded from orbit until nothing remained. Not even a god could survive the massed fire-power of four Dersite cruisers.

With his two remaining guards, by the sides of his bed, he grabbed his ring, and was wheeled into the hall, his retinue frantically making for the hangar...

XXXXX

Evan let his sword drop to the ground, and he stood for a few moments, panting. He couldn't remember much of the details of the previous fight, so he assumed that he must have "lost it" again.

Though, strangely, he didn't really mind. The main thing that bothered him was not being able to recall many details about the battle. He certainly had _some_ recollections, but the rest was quite...fuzzy and unclear.

Glancing around, he vaguely remembered the enemy getting more reinforcements, and cutting those down aswell. Now, he was a little ways down the corridor from the crew quarters, as far as he could tell.

Idly eyeing the bodies, he wondered if he should keep one or two alive to interrogate about their King's whereabouts...

Interrupting his musings, more Dersites foot-soldiers rounded the corner before him, and began firing at him.

Evan had grown bored of killing these things. He simply sighed, rose into the air, and flew into their ranks like a cannonball, scattering them, while cutting and eviscerating left-and-right with his chainsword. The small unit of twenty or so held for about a few seconds, before breaking and retreating.

Evan merely showered them with his flame-thrower, and shook his head in disappointment. Any human soldier was worth a hundred of these whelps. They broke seconds after engagement. How did they possibly manage to defeat the other white chess guys? This army was the epitome of patheticness.

As the last of the foot-soldiers fell, a distant thumping came from the other end of the hall...

Evan spun around, to see what he could best describe as a large, bulky, black mech-suit, built in a way that strongly resembled medieval plate-mail, turn the corner, and raise some sort of gun-arm at him. He supposed the large suit would be intimidating...to a race of creatures that were three feet tall. To him though, this thing was just about equal size. The bloody troll-things from his planet were more menacing! And those were so weak they stopped fighting after losing an arm!

All this was processed in under a second, as moments later, a blast of violet energy left the barrel upon the suit's arm, and shot across the corridor at him.

Evan threw himself backwards, and let the bolt pass overhead, where it boiled part of a bulkhead away. He then made a quick conclusion that getting hit would not be advisable.

Getting up, and pointing his sword at it, he experimentally shot it a few times, only for the bullets to harmlessly plink off. The suit retaliated by raising it's other arm, which had something that resembled a Gatling Gun mounted on it.

Fortunately, Evan had the good sense to fly backwards, and around the corner before a hail of tiny energy blasts eviscerated the ground where he stood.

Hiding behind the wall, as a flurry of small blasts tore chunks out of the wall, Evan thought to himself, ' _I really want something like that..._ '

Rather than rush out and test if his god-tier body was suddenly more durable than his old one, Evan wisely elected to simply stay put until the mech ran out of ammo.

That proved to be a lengthy course of action.

Finally, when the pitter-patter of energy shards stopped, Evan flew up a few inches, then rocketed around the corner, intent on ending the fight immediately. Despite the Dersite's attempts to raise his arm-cannon again, Evan was simply too fast.

In less than a second, he was within slashing range, and brought the whirring chainsword in a sideways cut. To his shock, the blade simply bounced off the armour, leaving a series of hairline cuts and scratches where it hit. The suit reacted faster than Evan expected, firing it's cannon at the ground, causing Evan to hop backwards to avoid the explosion.

It swiftly followed up with a second attempt to eviscerate him with it's other weapon, but Evan flew to the side, avoiding the spray of energy bolts. As it turned, continuing to track him with it's weapon, Evan leapt above the cone of fire, and closed into melee range.

Rather than trying to stab it again, Evan attempted another course of action.

As the suit attempted to punch him, Evan lifted up, and slammed into it, lifting the (quite heavy) suit off the ground, and propelling it towards the other end of the corridor.

In mid-flight, the suit punched him in the face with it's cannon arm, and then fired. Evan threw his head to the side to avoid getting it removed. Still, the heat partially liquefied his gasmask, sending the sharp smell of acidic, burnt rubber into his face.

The two then slammed into the wall, denting it heavily, and fell to the ground.

Evan recovered first, and jumped on-top of it, dropping his sword.

Before it could react, he began to rain blows upon its helmet, unleashing the full physical force of a Prince of Rage.

After a full minute, he stopped, and slumped to the ground, breathing hard.

The enemy's helmet, head, and the floor beneath, was completely pulverized and crumpled, a massive dent in the thick floor being all that remained of the upper part of the suit.

Evan glanced at the sheer devastation he had wrought, and actually shivered a little. On the one hand, he was utterly ecstatic about the unstoppable power he now wielded. But on the other hand, a very, very small part of him was somewhat unsettled by the casual devastation he could unleash. This would normally be the part where the super-hero or whoever would swear to never use their powers, or to only use them sparingly, but Evan was _far_ from being that type of person. Still, in an unusual display of foresight, he planned to get better control of his abilities, to avoid...accidents, whenever Chris annoyed him too much, but overall, he certainly was not about to cut back on his powers.

Standing up, he retrieved his sword, and took a moment to nod respectfully to the power-armoured chess-person. That was perhaps the best fight of his life... Still, that was only compared to North Korean conscripts that could barely hold rifles, the other Dersites that weren't much better, and the assorted imps and things that fought more like animals than sentient beings, which made defeating them all the easier.

Then, he turned slowly to leave.

As he reached the end of the corridor, he was met with a disobedient door.

The situation was promptly resolved with a swift kick.

Entering the next room, which was some form of dining area, Evan froze.

At the other end of the room, were three more battle-suits. Which looked just as surprised to see him, as he was to see more of them.

Acting first, Evan dove behind a pillar, as three sets of Gatling-weapons unleashed a torrent of fire at him, ripping entire chunks out of his cover.

Time seeming to slow down, Evan glanced around the room, noting the positions of the other pillars and tables, how close the Dersite battle-suits stood to each-other, how soon they would need to reload, and readied his chainsword. This would need to be executed flawlessly...

Just as the hail of energy stopped, Evan flew out from behind the pockmarked pillar, and flew straight at the suit on the left.

When he hit it, he kept going, and going, and going. Soon, they tore through the wall, and broke into the room on the other side.

Acting quickly, Evan unleashed a flurry of swift sword blows onto the suit's chestplate. Though this did nothing, it was mainly done in an attempt to test the suit's durability. Floating upwards to avoid a clumsy swipe, Evan doused the suit with a burst from his flame-thrower.

Judging by the lack of flailing and screaming, it appeared the suit was pressure-sealed. Interesting.

The suit then raised it's cannon-arm.

Knowing what this meant, Evan closed with the suit once more, and pushed it's arm out of the way. Aiming his chainsword more precisely, Evan thrust it straight at a small gap he had previously noticed between it's thick helmet and chestplate.

To his pleasant surprise, the sword went through with little resistance.

The suit struggled, discharging it's arm-cannon, but soon fell still.

Evan then whirled around towards the breach he had created, anticipating the arrival of the other two suits. Yet...nothing came.

Curious, he peeked out, and saw nothing. The room was clear.

Seeing only one possible way for the mechs to have exited, Evan flew to the door they had entered through, and with a swift punch to the keypad, opened the violet door.

Sticking his head into the hall on the other side, he saw the retreating forms of the other two suits at the end of the hall. Yet, strangely, it didn't appear that they were routing. (Evan had seen plenty of total routs during his days in Korea. He'd even caused a few.) It instead seemed like they were simply going elsewhere...

Seeing no reason to attack them immediately, Evan decided to attempt to follow them...

XXXXX

 **Judicious Seraph** , Line Corporal of the Dark Monarch's royal guard advanced rapidly down the corridor with slow, powerful strides. Despite his desires to continue the engagement with the intruder, frantic orders had come in over his helmet speakers, urging all Dersite soldiery to abandon their current tasks, and to converge on Docking Bay 32.

Neither he, nor his partner, **Malicious Sentinel** noticed the human trailing them from behind.

XXXXX

The Black King was on a wheeled gurney, ring firmly clutched in his hands, as it was being rushed through the halls of the dreadnought. Glancing to the side, he saw one of his two guards keeping pace beside him.

Everything was progressing smoothly. He'd issued commands to one of his subordinates to recall a chunk of his forces to secure his retreat, so even if the god-tier found them, he'd have enough troops to distract him.

The procession entered another corridor, one that had a four-way intersection at the center. They continued forwards, with small clusters of rifle-troops catching up to them from behind. Any that strayed too close to him were swatted aside by his guards, which towered over the other Dersites. Though he was loath to admit it, he was vulnerable now, and regicide was a definite possibility, so his Guard were extra watchful.

As they entered the intersection, the door in the hall to their left opened, and admitted two of his Praetorians. For a moment, the Black King stared at them in confusion. They weren't supposed to be here...he didn't amend _their_ orders, they were still supposed to be hunting the God-tier...

Seeing the rising fury upon his sovereign's face, his communications lieutenant tried to disappear into the scenery. It didn't work.

Under a few seconds of the Dark King's furious gaze, the blubbering fool began to wail for forgiveness, and how he thought "recall the troops", meant recall everything, including those that were not identified as "Troops".

Normally, the offending imbecile would have been put to death, but they were in a hurry, so the Black King simply commanded one of his guards to take the offender's name, and remember to execute him later.

Still, two more guards weren't an...unwelcome addition, so the Black King bid them to join his procession, which the two did, moving silently into their traditional positions in the column.

Then, before his gurney could move on, another figure exited the leftmost door...

For a moment, both the Dark Monarch and the Purple caped god-tier stared at each-other. Then, the Black King urgently commanded the medical staff to push him forwards, while simultaneously, the guards, needing no orders, moved to place themselves between their sovereign and the threat.

The rest of the Dersite cohort, promptly panicked and began running in every possible direction. The few rifle-troops that kept their heads, began firing with their usual level of skill...which only added to the chaotic confusion.

As the Suits began to aim their weaponry, the God-tier flew at them...

XXXXX

Weaving through a storm of small energy blasts, Evan rocketed towards the Dersite Battle-suits. Though, strictly speaking, he was actually trying to get past them, before the King could get away. Again. Evan swore that he would not escape this time.

Still, as he approached his foes, there still remained a problem. How was he going to get around them? One had his cannon aimed upwards, clearly intending to hit Evan, should he try to fly over them. Going under wasn't an option, considering that he was almost bigger than they were. So that left only one option. His favourite option...

Just as he got to the point where he'd have to commit to an action, the other three shifted their aim to cover above and below them. Perfect, Evan smiled.

Without even slowing, Evan hit the middle-left one head on, knocking the heavy suit away as if it was nothing more than a bowling pin. Rather than turn and fight, Evan simply kept going, and hooked left around the approaching corridor, getting a quick opportunistic slice in on a regular Dersite that was standing too close.

As the ponderous suits awkwardly shuffled after him Evan was already long-gone.

Zipping around the corner, he tore down the hall, outright going through the door that blocked his path. A short while later, he soon caught up with the Black King...

XXXXX

As a roaring crash echoed down the hall behind him, the Dark Monarch gazed down the hall with trepidation. Surely, his guard could not have fallen so quickly. He needed more time...

With growing anxiety, he glanced forwards, trying to remember how far away the hangar was. Surely, it couldn't be _that_ far...

Sounds of weapon-fire drew his attention backwards.

He turned in bed, peeking backwards, just in time to see the god-tier tear right through a steel door, and rapidly glide towards him.

As his two remaining Praetorians stepped between their master and the onrushing foe, the Black King knew he was well and truly dead. The hangar was too far away, and the enemy too fast and too powerful. There would be no escape.

Unless...

He glanced down at the small ring he held, the artificial lighting glinting off it's three clear orbs. Seeing no other options, the Dark Monarch took a deep breath, and put on the ring.

XXXXX

Chester had given up on wandering aimlessly, and had changed his tactics. Currently, he was just leaning against a decorative buttress, and was fiddling with his laptop, trying to message either of his friends.

After about a minute of no responses, Chester sighed, and captchalogued his laptop. At this point, he was honestly considering going back to the Winnebago, and just waiting for everything to blow over.

Or, he _would_ do that, _if_ he knew how to get back there. In the chaos of their landing, he'd forgotten to mark the way back, so he was well and truly lost at this point.

Any further thoughts he might have had were cancelled when the ceiling rushed downwards to meet him. An anticlimactic thud resonated through the small room when he hit the ceiling.

As the thrashed on the ceiling, Chester was completely and utterly disoriented. His stomach felt like he was on a roller coaster, and his head was constantly bouncing off the roof.

Dimly, he could hear the sound of metal tearing, and muted explosions in the background. He hazily supposed that the ship must be falling, and, knowing nothing about the situation, assumed it was Evan's fault.

As the pressure pushing him upwards increased, the ship seemingly turned, causing him to slip off the ceiling, and to be slammed into a wall with tremendous force.

Shaking his head, Chester realized he needed to exit the ship immediately. Namely _before_ it hit the ground.

As the ship shifted again, and the forces acting on him lessened enough for him to move, Chester uncaptchalogued the Undertaker, and began charging it, his ultimate goal being to simply blast a hole to the outside, stand under it, and let the ship's downward momentum do the rest.

' _The problem was_ ,' he remarked, as he was slammed into the ceiling again, ' _That the Undertaker probably needed a long time to charge,_ ' and he wasn't especially confident in his body surviving that long.

After being bounced around for a bit longer, Chester decided that the current charge would have to do, pointed upwards, and fired.

The resulting beam of light temporarily blinded him, but even blind, he could feel the roof above him disappear, and heavy wind wash over him as he hovered in place. Dimly, he really hoped he wasn't about to be smacked by a piece of ship which the blast wasn't powerful enough to destroy.

To his immense relief, his vision returned, and he glanced upwards, to see little more than smoke and fire, but, dimly through it, he could make out a brief glimpse of blue sky.

Re-captchaloguing his gun, he rocketed upwards through the hole, and let the ship fall away beneath him.

Floating in the air, he hungrily took a few deep breaths, and stared in shock at the devastation before him...

XXXXX

Chris was happily sawing away at a particularly stubborn power cord when the ship suddenly shook. Unlike the other times this had happened, this time it was so violent that he actually fell off the cord, bracing himself with his flight.

The ship continued to shake, the dull groans of tearing metal could be heard.

Cautiously, Chris righted himself, and captchalogued his sword.

Then, a final, thunderous crash shook the entire ship, and suddenly the entire vessel plunged downwards.

Chris, who was stationary in mid air, was promptly slammed into the ceiling, and out of reflex, phased out.

A stunned Chris was then treated to watching the entire ship rush past, decks upon decks of crumpled metal and black smoke sped past, until he was clear of the ship, and watched it's vast, purple bulk slowly fall downwards.

With a deafening crack, the ship split in two, both halves falling downwards at an ever increasing rate. Chris squinted to try to make out what was happening, he could have sworn he saw what looked like... a giant humanoid in the falling debris. But there was far too much smoke and fire to see what was happening.

Glancing around, he saw the other Dersite vessels manoeuvring in confusion. Some attempted to go lower, to try and help, while one outright began heading straight up, and away from the battle.

Then, his thoughts turned to his friends...

' _OHGOG_!' he mentally panicked, Evan and Chester were still in there!

He had to go and help!

Just as he was about to descend into the falling wreckage, a blue beam shot out from the half closest to him, and out of the resulting hole, a very familiar figure appeared...

XXXXX

For a few moments, Evan was completely blinded.

He was flying towards the Black King, then there was a blinding light, then an explosion, and now...he was...falling?

A violent collision with a solid object swiftly knocked him back into the battle.

Snapping his eyes open, Evan was rewarded with a view of...Smoke.

Lots of smoke, with a few brief glimpses of open sky.

Oh, and he was falling.

Fully in control of his faculties again, Evan slowed his descent, and looked around.

The first thing that caught his attention were the torn apart chunks of ship all around him. Then, he noticed the massive, armless being a few hundred feet away from him.

As battered as the last time they fought, there was the Black King, seemingly too busy being frightened about falling to death, to pay any attention to the tiny Evan.

Floating to the side to avoid being crushed by a falling section of hull-plating, Evan put himself on "Auto-pilot," as he busied himself with simultaneously getting to his hated foe, and figuring out what the hell happened.

As he wove between falling debris, his mind was a buzz. As far as he could tell, the Black King was giant the first time they'd fought, then he was small. Now he was big again.

Using the ability called "logical deduction" that Chester had showed him, Evan slowly figured out that the Black King must have had some way to change size... Since the ship was torn apart and falling, then...the Black King must have become big...inside the ship, tearing it apart in the process. Seeing as blowing up one's own ships didn't seem rational (to people besides Evan, at least), he concluded that the Dark Monarch must have done it as a last resort, out of fear.

Approaching his enemy, Evan smiled. It felt good to know that he still struck terror into the hearts of his foes...

Then, as he got within a dozen feet, The Dark Monarch noticed him...

As Evan began to fly upwards, intent on a strike to the head, the Black King fired a lazer from it's helmet.

The lazer narrowly missed Evan, and just as the young berserker found himself face-to-helmet with his enemy, the ship (...or, what was left of it) landed.

XXXXX

For a few minutes, the multi-kilometer wreck of the Dersite dreadnought lay perfectly still, save for the small fires raging upon it's hull, and the occasional shifting and settling of metal...

Unseen to most outside observers, in a small section of upper deck, a large chunk of separated metal began to move...

Beside it, a mostly buried, black armoured figure began to stir, slowly, shakily moving it's exposed arm. The metal and rubble encasing the rest of it's body began to slowly shift...

Nearby, the moving piece of metal began to move upwards and downwards with more force, beginning to thrash and vibrate with great intensity...

Then, it began to lift upwards, slowly at first, but with increasing speed...Finally, with a heaving roar of exertion from somewhere beneath it, the large chunk of deformed metal was sent sailing through the air, landing nearby with a metallic crash.

Slowly, a battered Evan, teetering in his steps, began to exit the crater where he was pinned. With creaking movements, he uncaptchalogued his blade, drawing it slowly from his backpack.

With a body that felt completely crushed and broken, yet...feeling minutely better with every moment, Evan went into the air, jerkily and clumsily navigating upwards, and towards the buried giant.

The Black King had managed to shift the metal on his upper chest, and ponderously looked upwards at him.

Evan unceremoniously lowered himself onto the King's armoured chest, and slowly limped onto the giant's helmet. A brief silence passed between the two opponents, before Evan thrust the whirring chainsword through one of the crystalline eye-pieces, pushing it deep inside the helmet, before pulling the gun-trigger on the weapon over and over until the clip ran out.

The downed King didn't have energy left to do much more than spasm once, emitting a hoarse, rumbling growl, and fall still.

Evan, panting, withdrew his chainsword, resting it against the ground, and collapsed onto the handle. Though he would never admit it, this fight took more out of him, than perhaps anything in his life before.

After a few moments of silence, Evan noticed a peculiar glow...

Soon, everything went white, and the exhausted Evan gladly faded into sleep...

XXXXX

Suddenly startled, Chris opened his eyes, and sleepily blinked. Noticing that he was lying down, the small child slowly stood up, and looked around in weary confusion. For a few moments, his gaze thoughtlessly passed over his surroundings, before the rest of his brain kicked in, and he realized just why his surroundings had felt so strange.

He now stood on a fairly small metal circle, that was seemingly located in the depths of space, with little else besides tiny, twinkling stars shining all around.

The center of the platform was dominated by a large, two dimensional house, that looked like a mirror-image of Sburb's logo. The most notable part of the flat house, was the strange door that certainly wasn't a part of the logo, yet seemed to radiate some form of compelling aura.

Chis was so intent on the door, specifically the ornate crystal handle, that he completely missed something stirring beside him...

When a disoriented Chester gradually sat up beside him, Chris nearly jumped out of his skin in shock, before calming down, and happily muttering, "Ohit'sjustyou"

Chester looked at him for a moment, clutching his head, and asked, "Yeah...What happened?"

Chris gestured around them, and shrugged, "Idunno,"

Chester stretched, and muttered, "Of course..."

A familiar moan from behind the house drew their attention, and the both of them walked over to the other side of the odd two-dimensional house cut-out.

To their complete lack of surprise, they found an unconscious Evan, lying on the ground.

What did take them off guard, was just how beat-up Evan was.

His gasmask was dented and cracked and partially melted, most of his coat was ripped and burned, his short purple cape was, strangely enough, completely unharmed. Not even a single blackened burn-mark could be seen on it's completely pristine fabric.

While Chester filed that away as yet another fragment of important knowledge, Chris simply crouched down by Evan and began shaking him, softly muttering for his friend to wake up.

While Chris busied himself with Evan, Chester walked back around, to get a better look at the strange house that dominated the platform.

The house itself was only about ten centimetres deep, which was utterly bizarre, as it had a door on one side, while the other side was completely featureless and flat.

Coming closer, he took the doorknob, and examined it closer.

He could vaguely make out three coloured squares inside, but the seemingly hollow interior was filled with black smoke, and the doorknob itself simply felt...dead.

It was as if he'd forgotten to do something or other...

As he was pondering the query further, feeling like whatever he was missing was just out of reach, he heard a ponderously loud groan come from behind the building.

Sighing, Chester stood up, and walked over to check on Evan, who was currently sounding like a beached whale.

Rounding the house, Chester approached Evan, and enquired, (Already having more than just a _slight_ suspicion that Evan was responsible for their predicament) "So. Do _you_ have any idea what's going on?"

Evan, who had removed his broken helmet gave a melancholy smile, and replied, "Well, yeah...I found the Black king, and I chased him for a while, and then...well...I guess when I caught up with him, the bastard grew big again, and tore up the ship..."

Chester narrowed his eyes, "Explain 'Grew Big **again** '. That implies he was...smaller than before."

"Well, ...yeah..." Evan stammered, "He was, like, a small normal chess-guy, and then something happened and he was huge again," he then snickered and added, "His size didn't help him when a ship fell on him..."

"Speaking of ships..." Chester began, only to get interrupted by Chris,

"Whathappenedto you?Areyouokay?" the youth fussed,

Evan glanced at his garb, seemingly only then noticing the sheer devastated state it was in, and frowned, "Well...the ship kinda fell on me as well..."

"And you are completely unharmed..." Chester stated, the obvious question left unsaid

"Well...God-tier?" Evan questioningly answered,

"Yeah." Chester sighed, "It's kind of irritating since that is a perfectly legitimate answer in this damn game."

"So what did you guys do?" Evan asked,

"Well. I wandered around in pitch-blackness for a while. And absolutely nothing happened." Chester anticlimactically deadpanned,

"Iphasedbetween thewalls, andcut upabunch ofwiresandcables!" Chris proudly declared,

"...Wait..." Chester said, trying to connect the dots, "You were that jerkass that caused all those power-outages!"

Chris sheepishly smiled, and shrugged.

"Yeah!" Evan chimed in, "Your damn handiwork affected most of my area too!"

"Sorry," Chris smiled cheekily,

"Anyway." Chester began, "We need to figure-out what to do."

"TheBlackKing isdead,andnowwe're here." Chris stated,

"Right. Now. We just need to figure out where _here_ is." Chester said.

Evan walked around the door, stared at it, and tried the handle.

To his growing annoyance, it didn't work. He then kept trying the door, growing progressively more and more irritated. To his friends' utter shock, Evan began to pound on the door with his fists, outright cursing and yelling at it. When that failed to open it, he growled, and drew his chainsword, and unleashed a furious barrage of slashes and cuts upon the door, each slice delivered with more and more strength.

After a minute of sheer shock, Chester hollered at Evan to stop.

Evan delivered a few more, slower blows, and eventually ground to a halt, letting his sword fall.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Evan began to talk.

"I'm...sorry..." Evan muttered hoarsely, "I don't know what came over me..."

"Yeah. That was pretty sketchy." Chester agreed, marvelling at how shaken up his friend must have been to have actually apologized. Still, Evan was Evan, so what he was more interested in, was the strange door, and why he felt like it should be opened, yet it seemed...broken, and refused to co-operate.

Staring at it for a while, he pulled Evan over to him, and began discussing things with him, namely what the hell was up with this platform, and why the door was seemingly indestructible.

XXXXX

Chris watched Evan and Chester converse, bored out of his skull.

As he wandered around the circular platform, a curious beep came from his laptop. His interest piqued, he uncaptchalogued his laptop, and browsed into pesterchum.

To his happy surprise, his new friend had messaged him again...

- **ErROR0124nOtFoUnD[#$]** be#a! pe #erin^g **incoporealCriticist [IC]-**

#$: _Greetings once again, Christopher._

 _*%: Congratulations on beating the game._

IC: Ohwowthanks

IC: Itwas mostlyEvanthough

#^: _Say, could you perhaps... do a favor for me?_

IC: Sure!

 _%*: Well, do you still have the doorknob I gave you?_

IC: Ofcourse! It'slikethebest giftever!

 _$ : Good. Now then, here is what I need you to do..._

XXXXX

Chester and Evan had come up with a somewhat workable idea. Chester had mentioned vaguely remembering needing to do something that pertained to...frog breeding?

Aside from that, they had next to nothing to go on, so the workable plan at the moment was to try to make their way back to Chester's planet, (Somehow, they had no idea where it was), and to try to...breed frogs?...or at least get information about it, and figure out where to go from there.

While they planned, neither of them noticed Chris walk up to the door, unscrew the grey, faded doorknob, and replace it with a bright and lively one which he just suddenly uncaptchalogued.

Then, pausing for a second, Chris took the door handle, turned, and wrenched the door open...

Immediately, a whirling vortex of incoherent colour appeared inside the door, seeming to continue without end, pulling Chris into it, and dragging Evan and Chester towards it with overwhelming force...

Chester, awkward and clumsy as ever, promptly slipped, fell on his rear, and was swiftly pulled in, screaming "WHAT THE HELL?"

Evan tried to uncaptchalog his sword, and dig it into the platform, but it took too long. Instead, he simply grabbed the door-frame, and desperately hung on, trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

Even with all his augmented strength, it was all he could do to fight against the door's pull. As he began trying with all his might to pull himself out, the door slammed shut on his hands, throwing him inwards unceremoniously.

With the door drowning out his last cries, a serene silence reigned upon the platform.

The only sign of movement on the entire grey disc was a single, crystal doorknob...

Within it's depths floated four square symbols.

A red gear...

A golden sun...

Blue waves...

And a White spiral...

 **A/N: Just to quickly mention, before I vanish for a long time, there will be another chapter up, though, it will be more of a teaser for Act 2. Since my schedule is packed, I can't realistically say when it will be up though. Also, Spyzee is working on new, absolutely stunning cover-art. It's not done though. So track him down on steam and pester the heck out of him. Anyway, I bid you adieu, please review.**

 **(Hey, that Rhymed!)**


	25. Act 2 Teaser

**A/N: Hello folks! I have returned with a selection of short teasers for act 2. Yay!**

 **Anyway, It will begin at some point in two or three months. Sue me. I need rest.**

 **Regardless though, it has been a great honour to see all of you reading, I am so happy to see this fic actually well-received.**

 **Also, Spyzee has finished the new-cover art a few days ago, which I'm sure you've all seen. Be sure to give him your thanks, he's quite awesome.**

 **Anywho, I own nothing, save the OC's.**

 **Please review, and I hope you enjoy!**

Cold.

Chester was so cold.

With that one thought, he finally shook off the last clinging vestiges of unconsciousness. Though his entire body ached, and he was too exhausted to even stand up, Chester was now finally conscious, and began to take a mental awareness of his surroundings.

...After a few seconds, he was able to, indeed, confirm that it was, in fact, really cold.

Thinking as hard as he could, Chester then tried to remember what had happened...

He vaguely remembered a strange silver platform... Arguing with Evan... Then... he wasn't sure. It was probably Evan's fault though. Most everything usually was.

Normally, he would have tried to get up and do things, but at the moment, and despite the biting cold, he felt quite comfortable in his current position. Though he knew such thinking was dangerous, and that one shouldn't sleep out in the snow, lest they didn't wish to wake again, he was simply too tired, and his brain powerless to resist. At this stage, and after all the crap he put up with, Chester figured he could rest a little bit, before figuring out just what the hell was going on now...

...

...

Seemingly no more than a few moments had passed before some form of hard cylinder sharply poked him in the back. It was accompanied by a... _girl's_ voice?

"Alright Bub. Who the heck are you, and what are you doing here?" The strange, female voice interrogated.

At that, Chester would have jumped up in shock, were it not for the whole aching and tired body thing... so he instead cracked open his eyes. After flinching from the sheer brightness of the white landscape around him, his eyesight quickly adjusted itself, and he was able to discern that he was, in fact, lying face-first in snow. ' _Well that explains things._ ' he thought to himself, before trying to identify whoever was poking him.

As he tried to slowly stagger to his feet, the foreign object poked him again, and the voice repeated itself,

"HEY! you stay still. Now how did you get here? And what do you want?"

Exasperated, and too tired to argue, Chester stopped moving, and called out to the mysterious individual behind him, "Look. I don't mean any harm. I don't know how I got here and...I'm not really too sure about what I want right now." then, he snarkily added, "Although. If you could stop poking me with that stick or whatever. That would be much appreciated."

For a few moments, the voice was silent, assessing his answer, before continuing, "Okay, I guess you're harmless enough, up you go."

Chester lay flat for a moment, before shakily putting his arms out, and staggering to his feet.

Glancing around, he noticed that the owner of the voice, was none other than a strange girl. She seemed about his age, and had long, dark hair, with striking green eyes framed by glasses. For whatever reason, she was out in knee-deep snow in some sort of unholy fusion of a lab-coat and a dress.

Oh, and she was pointing a rifle at him.

XXXXX

Evan snapped awake, suddenly sitting up, and scanning the environment for dangers.

For a few moments, his vision was blurry, and unfocused, so he could only see grey shapes moving in the distance, while a red glow dominated the area.

' _Am I back on my planet?_ ' he wondered, still dazed and confused, head shaky after his swift awakening,

Then, he noticed what had woken him up. All around him, were various clanking and hissing gears and pistons. Large spires and catwalks of metal extended all around him, rising from a lake of magma that carpeted the ground as far as the eye could see. The air was thick, sweltering, and hot.

' _Okay, so...not my planet,_ ' Evan concluded.

Rising to his feet, he shrugged off the last vestiges of tiredness, and uncaptchalogued his chainsword. Evan then simply chose a direction, and began walking...

...

...

For a while, he simply navigated the machinery and metal that made up the platform on which he rested, slowly continuing in the direction of his choice.

He could always fly, but that was no fun. Besides, he needed his exercise, if he didn't want to become a flabby weakling like Chester.

Then, as he continued walking onwards, towards a particularly large structure? He saw in the distance, a strange sight caught his eye...

There, leisurely walking along the shifting gears, was a boy.

However, it was not Chester. Nor, was it Chris.

That fact alone made Evan pause and do a double-take.

He hadn't been paying too much attention to Chester, but he was reasonably sure that the nerd had mentioned Earth being destroyed, and everyone dying. Yet, here was a human, that certainly hadn't entered their session with them, walking around like he owned the place, with a over-exaggerated stride that screamed *cool-kid*. (Evan had seen plenty of these..."High-School musicals. He was well aware of how children his own age acted.)

The strange kid, at that exact moment, turned, saw Evan, paused for a moment, then simply nodded, and began walking towards him. Evan, seeing nothing better to do, went to meet him. He even lowered his sword (a teeny bit) as a gesture of...what did Chester call it? Peace? Non-violence?...something like that...

As they closed, Evan noted some details about the other boy. He was slightly shorter than him, (then again, Evan towered over practically everyone), and wore totally cool dark shades, along with a very tastefully classy suit. The boy was about as lanky as Chester, though he had pale, blonde hair, as opposed to the brown haired nerd.

Except.

Evan had found a problem.

The suit. Was. Red.

The universal sign of communism.

He subconsciously caressed the trigger of his sword, expecting violence...

When they both closed to a few hundred feet, they stopped.

After a brief pause, Evan saw no signs of harmful intent from the boy opposite him, so he cautiously lowered his sword further.

The other boy simply adjusted his shades, and confidently called, "Sup?"

XXXXX

Chris was quite unhappy.

He had woken up in some strange area that was extremely bright and open. There wasn't a comforting shadow or piece of cover within sight.

Sighing dramatically, he kept trudging through the sandy, golden beach which made up the area. His destination for the moment was a two-story building that dominated the beach from a small hill of sand.

As waves gently lapped at the shore, Chris found himself wondering what had happened. He remembered receiving a message from his new friend...He remembered doing something with a shiny door-knob...then...there was a great pulling, and lights and sounds...

Now he woke up on a beach.

Pulling the coat tighter around himself, he shivered, and grumbled something incoherent.

He really didn't like sand. There was no sand in Seattle, so it was only now that he realized that sand slowed one down, and was loud and squishy. It completely ruined his plans to stealthily approach the house (and perhaps burglarize it for shinies).

Soon, he had climbed the hill, and went around the strange house. It was like, one of those, new, "Square modern houses" that Chester had mentioned in his lecture on the history of architecture.

Chris didn't like it. It was too flat and blocky, there weren't enough crenellations to hide in, or climb. Still, he made his way around, to where he assumed the back-door would be.

He was over-joyed to find that the door was a glass sliding door. He had the perfect instrument for this...

Fiddling with his fetch-modus, he withdrew his trusty glass-cutter, and pressed it to the door. With a quick turn of it's crank, he had silently cut a hole in the glass.

Re-captchaloguing the tool, Chris had slowly removed the neat, glass circle from it's hole in the door, and gently reached through the hole, and gingerly slid the door open...

Like a ghost, he crept inside the house, inadvertently tracking soggy sand all over the floor by accident. Ooops.

As he sheepishly scanned the interior, and got his bearings, noting the locations of a kitchen, a den, and many, many...wizards?... he froze.

There was a girl sitting in one of the chairs on the other end of the den, a laptop placed on her knees. She had short blond hair, and wore a knee-length skirt and a T-shirt that had a purple, horrific, eldritch creature depicted upon it. Chris was horribly reminded of a certain Light Souls boss...

She had looked up from the screen, and was staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and mild alarm.

Her face swiftly settling into an un-readable expression, she slowly reached for some kind of wooden stick on a nearby table, while venturing conversation, "Greetings stranger? ...What brings you _inside_ my residence?"

Chris panicked, and began his normal routine for getting caught where he wasn't supposed to be. He had to convince her that he was lost, and not a robber. He definitely didn't fancy his chances against her if it came to a fist-fight...

"IerwellI...errr...I'mlostpleasehelpme!" He cried, removing his helmet, and trying to use his adorableness to convince her of his harmless intent. (Desperately hoping she didn't see him break in)

She lifted an eyebrow, looked at him for just long enough to show she was onto him, and with an exaggerated sweep of her arm beckoned to another arm-chair,

"Have a seat, I suppose. Would you care for some tea?"

XXXXX

Elsewhere, In a place between simple concepts like time and space, a lone figure rose from behind a monitor.

Reaching out of her robes with a gnarled, green hand, she closed her laptop, and drew it into the folds of her black and grey cloak.

The first phase of the plan had succeeded...after much assistance on her part.

Now, she had further things to do, and other places to be. There was much to still arrange, and little time to do it in. Not that time was a concept that even particularly applied out in the void of the furthest ring.

Besides, this location was no longer safe. She had spent too much time here, used too much power... Dark things would inevitably be drawn to this stretch of paradox space.

One being in particular...

She did not intend to be here when he arrived...

Sparing a last glance at the monochromatic spiral that had served as her place of refuge for the past while, she turned, and ventured outwards into the twisting depths of the furthest ring.

There was still much to do...


	26. Act II: Chapter 1

_**A/N: Salutations dear readers!**_

 _ **I have returned from the several months of self-imposed exile, and now I have prepared a new chapter for you guys and gals.**_

 _ **Act II has officially begun, and Beta kid interaction will now begin.**_

 _ **As always, Andrew Hussie owns Homestuck, and I am just a poor person who owns a Winnebago and three OCs.**_

 _ **Please review, and I dearly hope that you enjoy.**_

Upon a bright, sandy world, Chris slowly awoke.

Sleepily, he opened his eyes, mind still dull and hazy.

The first thing he had noticed was that he was lying face down in some sort of powdery yellow stuff, that was grainy and coarse. Dimly, he hoped it wouldn't scratch his armour, re-prototyping a new set would require going all the way back to his...planet.

That train of thought had brought his thoughts to the recent past.

The Black King.

His friends.

Victory.

A strange platform.

...and then... nothing.

He couldn't remember any more.

Now jolted out of his sleepy state, the young thief wobbled into a standing position, already growing resentment at the strange ground, and how it shuffled and shifted beneath his feet. Trying to remember what had happened and where his friends were, Chris inspected his surroundings. He was on a beach of some kind.

Nearby, waves gently lapped at the shore, while golden rain-clouds gathered offshore.

He then noticed another thing about this new environment that he disliked. It was so bright. Nearly painfully so.

There was not a comforting shadow in sight.

His mind still dim from his abrupt awakening, and still very confused as-to his surroundings, Chris fell back on instinct, and immediately looked for somewhere to hide from the sun's scouring rays, and potential unfriendly eyes until nightfall. At night, he reasoned, he would have the advantage, as he had excellent night vision, and he would be far harder to see.

Sighing dramatically, and with no clear goal in sight, he began trudging along the beach.

As waves softly washed against the shore, Chris found himself wondering again about what had happened. He vaguely remembered receiving a message from his new friend...He remembered doing something with a shiny door-knob...then...there was a great pulling, lights and sounds...

Now he had spontaneously woken up on a beach.

Pulling the coat tighter around himself, he shivered, and grumbled something incoherent.

He soon realized that this strange ground material, Sand, he believed it was called, was a total hindrance for walking and sneaking. Especially when wet.

It was noisy, and his metal boots sunk into it, and it got stuck to everything when wet. Chris had definitively concluded that this "sand" was absolutely terrible and awful in every way.

As he continued mentally complaining over the ground, he noticed something in the distance. It was a large, several story, white house, with sprawling additions on the first floor, and a very strange part that jutted out over the water, and... poured...rainbows? Into the shimmering water.

Chris was thoroughly confused.

Still, in his confusion, one instinct remained.

'Whoever lives there must have lots of shinies...'

Chris tried to squash the thought, there were far more important things to do and think about, like planets, and friends, and denizens and...

Yeah, shinies it was.

Conspicuously crouching down, he began to slowly advance on the house, hoping to, at the very least, get out of the omnipresent sun.

After much cunning stealth, he had climbed the hill, and approached the strange house. It was built like, one of those, new, "Square modern houses" that Chester had mentioned in his lecture on the history of architecture... Although the modern homes that Chester had described didn't seem to come with rainbow waterfalls, and strange personal islands.

Fundamentally, Chris didn't like the house. It was too flat and blocky, there weren't enough crenellations to hide in, or climb. Still, undeterred, he made his way around, to where he assumed the back-door would be.

After much searching, as the house proved far larger that it had first appeared from a distance, he had finally reached the rear entrance. Even better, the door was a glass sliding door. He had the perfect instrument for this...

Fiddling with his fetch-modus, he withdrew his trusty glass-cutter, and pressed it to the door...

Then he stopped.

He had just realized.

He was a god-tier.

He could pass through the glass.

He could have flown the entire way here.

Without once touching the accursed sand.

Chris really felt like a complete...whatever Evan usually shouted at him.

Sheepishly Re-captchaloguing the tool, Chris simply closed his eyes, and tried to "phase-out". Opening his eyes, after several moments of exertion, he noticed that he was not shimmery at all. Hmm...

He tried to recollect how he had done the "phasing thing" earlier.

Usually, he just sprinted at solid objects, and passed right through...

Taking a few steps back, he really hoped that he wouldn't end up simply breaking through the glass door, as that would completely shatter the pretences of "stealth", that he had been aiming for.

Still, hoping for the best, he took a deep breath and sprinted at the door, eyes closed.

The expected crashing of shattered glass never came, so Chris immediately slowed to a walk, and opened his eyes.

Beneath his helmet, the boy grinned. He was in.

Then, he began inspecting and appraising the interior of the sprawling house.

He stood in a kitchen of some kind, with mostly grey furniture and silver appliances. A particular feature of note was that the lights in, seemingly the whole house, were off. Combined with most of the blinds being down, this gave the interior a cool, dark, atmosphere.

Chris slowly entered the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Those attempts were instantly ruined, as all of the sand stuck to his boots began to immediately make sloppy, wet sounds against the ceramic tile floors.

Cringing at the noise, Chris took a few steps back, tried to clean his boots on the doormat as best he could, shrugged, and then tried again.

The noise was...reduced, so he figured it should be good enough at this point, besides, it wasn't as if anyone was actually home.

Right?

Once again, he resumed his exploration of the kitchen, noticing a peculiar...note? On the fridge.

Coming closer, he noted that it was just some sort of page, stuck to the refrigerator with a very fancy magnet. The page had some sort of genuinely awful scribble on it, which made Chris's prior artistic attempts look perfect by comparison. This...drawing...was just genuinely bad. A part of the page was resting on some sort of velvet, knitted pillow that lay on the floor.

Chris was completely confused.

Still, he did get one thing out of staring at the fancy pillow and fridge magnets.

These people were rich.

Already imagining the shinies that awaited him, he left the kitchen, and entered some form of combination stairwell, and living room. A large granite stairwell dominated the room, surrounded by assorted statues and carvings, while a towering stone wizard looked down upon the room. Luxurious and visibly expensive furniture adorned the room, which only added to the sense of grandeur and wealth that the house emanated.

Chris stared in mild surprise at the massive wizard statue for a few moments, before simply concluding that it was, like everything else there, put in place by some rich, old, eccentric, and that it really held no real purpose.

Then, as he crept further into the room, a glow from one of the chairs caught his attention, and he froze.

Slowly, he turned towards it, silently reprimanding his boots for scraping against the floor...

At first, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he could only tell that the glow was coming from some armchairs in the far corner of the room.

Then, as his vision readjusted, and he crept closer, he could finally see what was over there...

There was a girl sitting in one of the chairs on the other end of the den, a laptop placed on her knees. She had short blond hair, and wore a knee-length skirt and a T-shirt that had a purple, horrific, eldritch creature depicted upon it. Chris was horribly reminded of a certain Light Souls boss...

She had looked up from the screen, and was staring in his exact direction, with a mixture of curiosity and mild alarm.

Chris shivered under her gaze, but remained calm. It was dark, he was crouched and stealthy, she had likely been staring into a bright monitor for a time, there was _absolutely no way_ she could see him...

As she scrutinized his location, and Chris stood perfectly still, trying not to move or breathe, her laptop emitted a pesterchum message noise, and her gaze fell to the device on her knees.

Chris internally sighed in relief. Now, he just had to remove himself from this situation without being detected...

She then suddenly looked right back up, staring straight at him, and while slowly reaching for some kind of wooden stick on a nearby table, casually called out,

"Greetings, stranger...You _are_ aware that I can see you, correct?

Chris panicked, gave out a shrill squeak of some sort, began trying to back away, tripped over his Gog-tier cape, fell over in a heap, and shrilly called out,

"Imnotaburglar!Iswear! Pleasedon'thurtme! Ijustwantedtogetout ofthesun,andImlostandscared!"

She lifted an eyebrow, looked at him for just long enough to show she was onto him, and said, "I never _implied_ you were a burglar..."

A few silent moments passed, which, to the fallen Chris felt like hours, spent under the girl's scrutinizing gaze. Then, with an exaggerated sweep of her arm she beckoned to another arm-chair,

"...Have a seat, I suppose. Would you care for some tea?"

Chris shakily rose to his feet, and guiltily shuffled to an adjacent chair, lowering himself into it slowly. For a while, he sat in silence, watching as the girl simply continued to nonchalantly type on her laptop, leaving him to stew in his fear and guilt.

Just when he could bear the oppressive and judgemental silence no longer, she spoke,

"And who might you be? As far as I am aware, there are only three other humans in this session. You, are not one of them." Still holding her strange black stick, she continued, "Thus, that begs the question, Who are you? And how did you get here?"

Chris nervously looked at her, removed his helmet, and began,

"Well..."

XXXXX

Rose was having a very strange day.

Well, sure, it had begun with reality-warping games, and planet destroying meteor showers, and then graduated to alternate dimensions, and strange aliens on pesterchum. But the strange young boy sitting opposite her, was perhaps the strangest part of it all.

Looking at the situation analytically, she could easily connect and explain everything, from the meteors, caused by Skaia's defence portals sending chunks of space rocks away from the planet, and coincidentally, towards Earth. The alternate dimensions made sense, if one looked at their prior universe as being just another piece in the extra-dimensional puzzle that was Sburb. Though she knew little about the aliens, save for the two conversations she had thus far had with the one called Kanaya, and whatever scraps of information John was able to give her, the aliens, or "Trolls", as they called themselves, also seemed to logically fit into the chain of events, as fellow Sburb players, and the creators of the universe that she and her friends inhabited.

This, "Chris" boy however, made absolutely no sense.

Apparently, he and two friends had played Sburb, in some sort of _other_ universe. One that had absolutely no relation to either her or the troll's session.

According to the strange boy, things involving Winnebago's, Spaceships, and God-tier transformations had occurred, and then he had somehow got pulled into her session.

That part, made no sense, as Chris's session had seemingly nothing to do with her session, until he and his friends defeated their Black King. Then...something happened, and now Chris was here, chattering unceasingly in her living room.

Their initial verbal exchange could be described as Chris telling her absolutely everything about himself, and absolutely not caring to even ask where he was, or who she was. According to him, "ThoseareChester 'ssmart, hefiguresall thisstuffout, Ijustdowhat he says."

Then, she subtly interrogated him for a bit, trying to discern his motives and allegiances.

Apparently, he didn't know what motives even meant, and he did whatever his friends told him to...

Her task successful, she sat back to ponder these developments, as Chris continued to chatter in the background...

"Andthenhomeless santatookthelady'spurse andcarriedit awayfor 't heswell?" Chris continued babbling, seemingly oblivious to Rose's faraway look, and thoughtful demeanour.

Apparently, she had learned, Chris and his friends had all ascended to God-tier during their session, through very...unorthodox methods. When questioned about it, Chris had skirted the subject, visibly uncomfortable. Unsatisfied with his vague answers, she had then simply tricked him (With great ease), into accidentally revealing that his friend Evan, had dragged him out to a quest bed, and simply shot him there. Apparently this 'Evan', had also shot himself on his own quest bed...

At that point, the only thing she could think was, 'What on Earth was wrong with their session?' There was apparently a player murdering others, and some sort of rugged camping vehicle that had been destroyed several times, only to re-appear later, completely intact. She reasoned Chris wasn't a very reliable narrator, but still, even taking his (sometimes insane) statements with a grain of salt, still resulted in very odd implications about their session.

Still, she had at least gleaned one useful tidbit from Chris's ramblings, and that was that the small boy opposite her was harmless enough. His story had so much irrelevant background detail, was delivered with so much conviction, and with absolutely no hesitation about revealing details, both trivial and critical, that she concluded that he was either simpleminded and telling the truth, or he was a brilliant genius and an extremely devious manipulator, sent to their session for some as of yet unknown agenda...

Anyway, the 'Simple-minded, harmless boy' angle seemed to make far more sense, and was vastly more likely, so Rose relaxed a little bit, but still kept her wands ready for action.

Tuning back into the conversation, she immediately noticed that it had, seemingly unconsciously, taken a very sinister turn. Chris was now talking about his home, and jovially described an individual known as "Homeless Santa", and how he had "helped" a lady, by taking her purse, and running away with it...Chris seemed completely oblivious to the self-evident criminal nature of the event, and continued to happily describe events and places around his home,

"Andthenfor awhileaftermybrother's farmout inthewoods wasclosed, hedidn'twork,buth thenhegot hiredat a BROtell,whichIguess islike ahotel,butforpeople whoarebro's." 'Brothel?' Rose quietly wondered, growing ever-so-slightly unsettled by the sheer naivete of her guest, who simply continued chattering "wheneverIwas donewandering aroundtown, Iwouldstopat thebrotell, andtherewouldbe allthesenice ladiestherein swimsuits,andthey wouldgiveme animalcrackers and aDVDplayer towatch whileIwaitedformy brotogetoff work."

'Yes. Indeed, definitely a business of...ill repute.' Rose concluded.

Chris's past was both unsettling, and utterly fascinating.

Currently, Rose was working with the theory that Chris's personality was the result of very traumatizing events during his childhood, (of which he had happily described a dozen in the past ten minutes), that had then been heavily repressed, and forgotten. Though her favourite psychologist, Dr. Sigmund Freud had most of his theories about repressed experiences in childhood brushed off by modern psychologists, Chris was practically one of his theoretical cases come to life. The sheer level of strange and illegal things that went on in his neighbourhood was mind-boggling.

As she was able to discern, there were man-eating rats in the lobby of his (condemned) apartment building, his brother was most likely a drug-dealer, who had Mafia-types break into his apartment, looking for him, on several consecutive occasions. Also, a young Chris had apparently witnessed several shootings in the street outside his house, and stabbings were extremely frequent in the area. His brother didn't appear to even be aware of Chris's existence, as he was usually...intoxicated, or otherwise indisposed.

All in all, Rose was amazed that Chris was so irrepressibly chipper and happy.

Unmindful of it all, Chris continued to ramble, this time talking about the time he found a cool clubhouse inside the local laundromat.

Though she was quite interested in psychoanalyzing him on the spot, and trying to see just how deep that metaphorical rabbit-hole went, Rose knew that there were many far more important things to be done. She still needed to research the Green Sun, figure out how to fight Jack Noir, make sure John succeeded in bringing Jade into the medium, and win the snark war against Kanaya.

Then, as she was pondering how she would go about this, she glanced at Chris. He had mentioned becoming a god-tier...Perhaps he could prove to be useful...

"Say, Chris, you mentioned sucessfully ascending to God-tier, did you not?" She asked, breaking the boy out of his chattering.

"Yep!" he declared, smiling,

"Well, I have critical research to do on this planet," Rose said, speaking to him as she would to an eight-year old. "I'll have to leave for a while, But I'm just not sure what to do with you..." She trailed off, knowing he would take the blatantly obvious bait,

"CANIcometoo? Thatsoundssocool" Chris asked eagerly,

Rose smiled, "Certainly you can,"

Chris grinned, stood, drew a sword, and holding it aloft, declared that this would be the greatest adventure ever!

Smiling slightly despite herself, Rose stood aswell, captchaloguing her wands as she did so, and motioning for Chris to follow, walked to the door.

Opening it, and stepping out onto the shining beaches of her planet, the Land of Light and Rain, she equipped her Hubtopband headset, and drew her wands. Turning to Chris, she asked, "God-tiers are capable of flight, correct?"

"Yeah!" Chris declared, "Imthebestever atflying!Icaneven doitbetterthan Evanit'ssocool!"

"Excellent." She continued, "In that regard, simply follow me,"

With that, she charged black majjyks within her wands, and using the harnessed power blasted into the sky. Chris waited for a moment, then followed.

As she flew, Rose thought about the new arrival on her world, and of what this would mean for the future of the session...

 _ **A/N: So, timeline-wise, things are going to be a bit weird... Chris is hanging out with rose near the beginning of ACT 5 Act 2, just after she prototypes most of her stuff. Evan, meanwhile, shows up on Dave's planet at an...as of yet undetermined point in time, and Chester will show up on Jade's world, almost immediately after she enters the medium. The problem with this, is that Jade enters the medium about halfway through ACT 5, and we are currently somewhere near the beginning. In this fic, however, the Chris and Chester chapters will be happening at the same time, which, since they likely will never run into one another in person, hopefully wont be too much of a problem. Still, if the timey-winey shenanigans are confusing to you, then you can just pretend that Evan and Chester enter the session at points in the future, and the timeline continues as normal.**_

 _ **Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy what I have planned for ACT II of this fic.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading.**_


	27. Act II: Chapter 2

_**A/N: Greetings people, I have updated again! ...in a few days...what is the world coming to? Anyway, the Christmas holidays have given me ample writing time. I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, and may the rat god bless you with his twitching, furry presents (Reference...please don't ask). As always, I own nothing save the OC's, please review as it really helps motivate me to write faster, and, I hope you all enjoy,**_

 _ **Merry Sackmass, all. And may Mr. Sacks not abduct you from your lodgings on this fine evening.**_

Upon a land of Heat and Clockwork, as oceans of magma bubbled, and indeterminable machinery clanked and moved and hissed, Evan snapped awake.

Suddenly conscious, he sat up, and scanned the environment for dangers, hand falling to his chainsword.

For a few moments, his vision was blurry and unfocused, so he could only see grey shapes moving in the distance, while a red glow dominated the area. The first thing that truly broke through the fog of sleep that clouded his mind, was the heat.

' _Am I back on my planet?_ ' he wondered, still dazed and confused, head shaky after his swift awakening. Dimly glancing around, he noted the sweltering and scorching temperature. It was as if he stood inside an oven.

Then, he noticed what had woken him up. All around him, were various clanking and hissing gears and pistons. Large spires and catwalks of burnished metal extended all around him, rising from a lake of magma that carpeted the ground as far as the eye could see. The air was thick, sweltering, and hot.

' _Okay, so...not my planet,_ ' Evan concluded.

Rising to his feet, he shrugged off the last vestiges of tiredness, and stretched.

Yawning, he wondered how he had ended up here...wherever "here" was, that is.

Closely scrutinizing the metal platform he had slept on, Evan began to remember fragments of the recent past...

There was a triumphant and successful assault upon the Black King's ship,

There was...some kind of platform?

And then...An argument with Chester? ...followed by...well...err...he couldn't remember.

Casting an additional glance around the machinery and metal around him, Evan assured himself that no threats were nearby. Thus, he then knelt, and uncaptchalogued his laptop, intending to link-up with his companions, and figure out where the hell he was.

As he browsed through the pesterchum windows, Evan froze when he opened the **-User Database-**...

Ever since their session began, all the millions of pesterchum users in North America vanished, leaving just the three of them. Now though, four new users had appeared in the main list...

 **-ectoBiologist-**

 **-tentacleTherapist-**

 **-turntechGodhead-**

 **-gardenGnostalgic-**

There was also, the familiar sight of Chris's chum-handle, **-incorporealCriticist-**.

However, what truly unsettled Evan, was that Chester's handle, was completely missing from the list. Though he had absolutely no clue what that meant, or how it even worked, Evan had a gut feeling that this did not bode well.

Still, he wasn't about to pronounce Chester as deceased on account of some shitty program bugging out, so Evan did his best to move on.

He first attempted to contact Chris, but his friend was seemingly offline.

Leaving multiple messages instructing the thief to contact him immediately upon logging in, Evan closed out of Chris's profile.

Hovering the cursor above the new tags, Evan thought about contacting the strange users, seeing as all of them were online, but then thought better of it. If they proved to be foes, then it would be quite stupid to announce his presence to them.

For now, despite wanting to virtually bludgeon his way into their conversations, and demand to know Chester's whereabouts, as well as where exactly this fire-planet was located, Evan would have to watch and wait.

Still, he contented himself with the thought that, should they prove to bear hostile (or communist) intent, he could then unleash his wrath upon them...

Since Chris was still offline, and Chester still hadn't appeared, Evan reasoned that there was really no reason to stay on his laptop. Making sure that the notification volume was set to vibrate, letting him know of new messages, but not blowing his cover if he decided to ambush a target, Evan captchalogued his laptop.

Slinging his pack over his shoulders, he glanced around the machinery, and decided to get to higher ground, and figure out where the hell he was...

XXXXX

For a while, he simply navigated the machinery and metal that made up the platform on which he rested, slowly continuing in the direction of his choice. He could always fly, but that was no fun. Besides, he needed his exercise, if he didn't want to become a flabby weakling like Chester.

Then, as he continued walking onwards, towards a particularly large structure he saw in the distance, a strange sight caught his eye...

Towering into the sky, was what appeared to be a modern apartment building...or at least the upper half of it, as the bottom which stuck out of the lava was burned down to it's steel skeleton.

What caught his attention though, was the fact that it was blatantly not like the surrounding lattice-works of metal, and clearly an Earth-made building. This was obviously the residence of whichever player this planet belonged to...Except that Evan was ninety-nine percent sure that he, Chester and Chris were the only players in the session.

More logical minds such as Chester's might have supposed that, perhaps it belonged to one of the four new users, but Evan was far from being logical.

What Evan was though, is crafty. He glanced at the apartment suspiciously, and decided that whoever owned it was likely either somewhere around, or, returning soon. He intended to enter the building, stake out the owner, capture him when he returned, and interrogate him...Or her, Evan was an equal opportunity murderer.

Reaching the building, offered a problem, however. It was completely isolated and surrounded by lava. Completely unreachable...That is unless one could fly...

With sudden and jerky motions, Evan shakily lifted himself into the air, falling and catching himself several times (Much to his own displeasure), and began to stealthily (For Evan, anyway) approach the apartment...

As he flew, Evan began to grow "reacquainted" with the God-tier's flight, and gradually began to stop jerking around in mid air. Soon, he had reached the bare metal section below the actual apartment, and set himself down on a metal strut.

Glancing upwards, he began to plan his ascent. After all, it would hardly do to alert his target of his presence...

Soon enough, he decided to slowly fly upwards, hugging the walls of the apartment as closely as possible, and avoiding windows. Then, once he got high enough, he would find an open window (Or "quietly" make one), and enter.

Warming up the pilot light on his flame-glove, and tensing for battle, Evan began to carefully float upwards. Hugging the walls, he navigated past several stories of seemingly abandoned apartments, before seeing a floor with functioning lights.

Grinning, Evan manoeuvred himself closer to the windows to take a look...

On first inspection, the interior rooms seemed...odd.

The interior was a strange mix of stereotypical "homeless person" furnishings, such as cinder-blocks that substituted for tables, and a stack of mattresses in one corner, as well as expensive electronics, dead things in jars, and a collection of swords that lined one wall.

Overall, Evan thought this room was the height of style. 'Dead things in jars...Why didn't I think of that?' he wondered, 'It would add a perfect ambiance to the Winnebago...and potentially double as emergency weapons...or rations'

Clearly, whoever lived here, was almost as great a decorator as Evan. His appraisal of the premises finished, he decided that, for the time being, he might as well make this place a base of operations. Heck, it even had a mini-fridge, likely filled with all sorts of nutritious goodies.

Doing a quick check of the other windows, Evan confirmed that none were open. It appeared that he would have to break in. Shame, the window would certainly be a pain to fix...

Sheathing his sword, and drawing back his fist to break the window, Evan suddenly noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Very slowly, he shifted his field of view to the left, towards the larger conglomerates of gears and metal out in the lava.

Yes, there was indeed something moving out there, among the gears and shifting machinery...

Evan uncaptchalogued his rife to use it's scope. Swiftly drawing it to his shoulder, he looked out to where he had seen the indistinct shape. For a few moments, the scope was out of focus while he fiddled with it, before growing to show a clear picture.

There, leisurely walking along the shifting gears, was a boy.

However, it was not Chester. Nor, was it Chris.

That fact alone made Evan pause and do a double-take.

He hadn't been paying too much attention to Chester, but he was reasonably sure that the nerd had mentioned Earth being destroyed, and everyone dying. Yet, here was a human, that certainly hadn't entered their session with them, walking around like he owned the place, with a over-exaggerated stride that screamed *cool-kid*. (Evan had seen plenty of these... "High-School musicals." He was well aware of how children his own age acted.)

The strange kid was walking in Evan's general direction, but was looking straight at him, so it was rather clear that he had been detected. Due to the strange boy's lack of immediate hostile reaction, Evan figured that it might be a better option to try and communicate first. After-all, it was hard to pump a corpse for information.

Re-captchaloguing his rifle, Evan placed his hand on his sword, and slowly few over to the strange kid. As they closed, Evan noted some details about the other boy, who had now stopped, and stared at Evan expectantly. He was slightly shorter than him, (then again, Evan towered over practically everyone), and wore totally cool dark shades, along with a very tastefully classy suit. The boy was about as lanky as Chester, though he had pale, blonde hair, as opposed to the brown haired nerd.

Except.

Evan had found a problem.

The suit. Was. Red.

The universal sign of communism.

He subconsciously caressed the handle of his sword, expecting violence...

When he closed to a few hundred feet, Evan dropped to the metal catwalk below.

After a brief pause, during which both simply stared at each-other, Evan saw no signs of harmful intent from the boy opposite him, so he cautiously approached further.

The other boy simply adjusted his shades, and confidently called, "sup?"

Evan paused, scrutinizing the red-suited boy.

"...Hello." Evan hesitantly said, caught between caution and a desire to just shoot the damn commie, and get this charade over with.

"hey," The potential communist casually greeted,

Evan was getting annoyed with this guy's laid-back attitude,

"Who the hell are you?" Evan demanded, visibly drawing his sword a fraction for emphasis,

"me?" the strange kid replied, in a tone that Evan just couldn't identify, "oh i'm just the resident time traveller, nothin much, just out and about doing time stuff", before adding, "how bout you, i don't recall seeing you around before"

"I'm the one asking the questions here, commie" Evan growled,

As Evan continued his demands, the other kid made a strange face...as if he was trying not to laugh,

"And another thing, where are we? What have you done with Chester? Why is no-one answering me? ...YOU'VE KILLED THEM, HAVEN'T YOU!?" Evan roared, fed up with all the vague non-answers,

"woah there, back it up a bit dude, back that shit up right now, i have no idea what you're on about," the kid protested, adding, "look, the name's Dave. I think you're hella confused right now, you maybe wanna sit down, have an apple juice, talk this shit out, make like we're reasonable and adjusted adults?"

Evan stared at this...Dave, for a few seconds, trying to determine any deceit. Communists were well-known for their treacherous and manipulative ways. Still, if Dave was offering to explain things, Evan could hardly complain. Also, there was apple juice being offered. It was as American as apple pie or baseball... A point in the boy's favour.

"Alright," Evan hesitantly replied, looking to his chainsword for reassurance.

Dave shrugged, sat down on the catwalk's edge, and uncaptchalogued two bottles of apple juice, offering one to Evan. Eyeing it suspiciously, he cautiously took it, and sat as-well. Though, a notable distance from the potential communist.

As Dave uncorked his bottle and took a sip, Evan asked, "So what is this place, and who are you?"

"well this" Dave began, gesturing to the surrounding landscape of fire and sprawling machinery, "is the Land Of Heat and Clockwork. it's my planet, and it's like an industrial yard was suddenly drenched in lava and fire, killing most of the workers, and sending the others scurrying far far away, leaving it abandoned. oh, and there's small dinosaur lizards here, too. as for me, well, im Dave, Dave Strider, i make sick raps, drink apple juice, and collect dead shit in jars," Noticing Evan's chainsword, hanging in it's exposed sheath, Dave added, "nice sword, bit overkill though, like so overkill it'd be like dropping a nuke on an ant infestation, what do you plan on using it on, anyway?"

"Communists," came a grumbling reply, as Evan sat and stared into the lava below, thinking. Dave made a strange noise as he nearly choked on his juice.

Evan frowned.

After a few moments, when he tried to figure out if he was being mocked, Evan finally asked, "So, is this some sort of other Sburb session then?"

"yup, this is our session, like, the most successful one ever. we've got what, three out of four people in so far, Black King got murdered by some dersite called Jack who ran off with his majjyk ring, and we've got unhelpful aliens trolling us on pesterchum. yep, things couldn't possibly get any more in control or perfect."

"what about you?" Dave asked, "i guess you're from a session or something too?"

Evan sighed fondly, remembering the sheer levels of devastation he delivered to the Black King's minions, "Yeah, our session was pretty nice, all things considered, we killed the Black King, ended up on some strange platform, and..." he stopped, hesitating. "...I...can't really remember...there was a pull, lights and sounds..."

"sounds like a fun night" Dave interrupted,

Evan shrugged, confused, "and now I'm here..."

"and now you're here," his companion agreed, "so, you really don't know how you got here?"

"not at all, probably Chris's fault though," Evan sighed,

"he one of your friends?"

"Yeah, I think he's actually in this session as well, he's just not answering his pesterchum" Evan said, frowning again

Dave took another sip of his juice, nodded, and volunteered, "You know, I could ask John and Rose to keep an eye out for him, if you want"

Evan looked up at him, "Thanks, if you could, I'd appreciate it,"

Dave shrugged, "no problem," glancing at Evan's unopened apple juice, he added "you can drink it you know, it's okay, i didn't poison it or anything,"

Evan felt himself warming up to this Dave fellow. He seemed trustworthy enough, despite the red suit, and his strange habit of rambling. Feeling (slightly) more at ease, Evan slowly removed the apple juice can's lid, and took a sip. It was a little too tart, and kind-of warm. Still, it was the best (and only) apple juice he had ever had, so he found it quite pleasant.

Turning his thoughts to other things Dave had mentioned, Evan asked, "You mentioned aliens on pesterchum..."

"yeah, there's like a bunch of people trolling us that say they're aliens. call themselves trolls. i think they actually are aliens cause no forum troll pretending to be an alien would name their species something so stupidly cringy, it's like if we renamed humans "bi-pedal monkeys that kill each other all the time," or rename earth, "not enough food for everyone". apparently their species actually does name their movies and books like that, which is so utterly stupid it loops right back around to being unintentionally ironic, and therefore cool."

Evan raised an eyebrow, "Are they actually aliens, though?"

Dave shrugged, "seems like that, anyway, there's like a few of them we've met so far. karkat's the angry one with grey text that shouts all the time, and talks like a disgruntled world wars vet who has nothing better to do, so he sits outside his apartment and constantly harasses the local teens with antiquated insults nobody even understands anymore, causing him to slide even further into a pit of loneliness and despair... i think you'd like him, he's an asshole, and pretty fun to mess with."

"Sounds like a good ally," Evan commented, without a trace of sarcasm. Once again missing the smirk ghosting across his companion's features.

"then there's terezi, she's pretty cool, helpful too, got a strange obsession with colours though, especially red. she probably stars in some alien documentary show about strange addictions, and how she copes with her crippling crayon eating habits, and how her house is buried in empty crayon boxes, leading to a dashing psychologist stepping in, ready and all to bust out some good old fashioned shock therapy, on this landmark case..."

"Red...Is she a communist?" Evan interrupted,

Dave snorted, asking "what's the deal with you and communists, man? are you on some heroic quest from the government to bring an ancient ring into the heart of enemy territory, to destroy it in their own factories, defeating the dark lord Stalin, and saving the world forever from the red menace"

Evan paused in confusion, "err...no?" standing heroically, he began to explain, drawing his sword and gesturing with it for emphasis, "I fight the communists because my dad fought them, communism is evil, it is a cancer that corrodes countries from within, infiltrating their borders like a virus, and then spreading unseen until it subverts the entire country." turning to Dave, he stated, "you want a reason for fighting communism? Stalin's purges; nearly twenty million dead, Mao's famines; over thirty million dead, communism always leads to death and brutal dictatorships, that's why I fight"

Adjusting his dark shades, Dave enquired, "you mentioned 'fighting communism' somewhere in there, care to elaborate?"

Evan smiled, fondly remembering older, simpler times, "yeah, my dad fought in Korea, never left, either. Stayed and fought even after the cowards withdrew and made peace. Then according to Chester, I must have been ecto-biolosomethinged into existence, and arrived in Korea some time after. Good ol' dad found me, raised me, and trained me to carry on fighting the good fight in his name." absentmindedly toying with his sword, he nostalgically continued, "we sure gave them hell, he and I, we must have taken out, what, like several bunkers, a tank, over a hundred soldiers, before the meteors came, we totally had them on the run. Taught those bastards to fear the Winnebago's horn and crappy engine." Cheerfully, Evan declared that "I'll have you know, I've killed over forty people!"

Noticing the strange look Dave was giving him, he quickly added, "But they were all commies though, so it's okay, I'm not a cereal killer or nothin,"

"oh of course, in that case it's perfectly reasonable then, you're like, the fukin king of being reasonable and stuff, in fact, we should build you a palace or something to show how reasonable you are," Dave teased with thinly veiled sarcasm,

"oh, no need for any of that, I'm just doing what any red-blooded American would do," Evan humbly refused, the not-so-subtle rhetoric going completely over his head,

"well then, on behalf of texas, i offer you our sincere gratitude for your service, Evan" Dave jokingly saluted the psycho standing before him,

Evan stared at Dave, narrowed his eyes, and asked, "wait, you're from texas?"

"yep, raised by my bro in austin,"

Evan looked at Dave's head in confusion, "But where's your cowboy hat then?"

Dave paused in bewilderment, "i...don't have one?" he slowly responded,

"But...all texans wear cowboy hats..." Evan protested, acting like one of the fundamental truths of the universe was just ripped away from him.

"i really hate to break this to you pal, but most don't" Dave said with mock seriousness, gesturing with both hands like a certain alien-obsessed master of irony from TV,

"But...but...they're supposed to wear hats..." Evan mumbled, what was the world coming to? Unless... "or maybe," Evan declared, "you're not a real texan! Yes, this makes so much sense, you want to be one, but can't afford the hat, ...for a second there you actually had me going there, texans not wearing hats, how silly."

Dave nodded, "yep. that's right. im not a real texan. _definitely_."

"Don't worry though," Evan said reassuringly, "texans are great people, im sure they'll accept you, even without a hat."

"...yeah. thanks for that, sure" Dave replied, finding it hard to fully believe just how obstinate and oblivious Evan was.

Evan was about to ask what Dave was upto now, and what he could do to help, reasoning that sticking with the wannabe texan until he found Chester was the best plan ever. Then, Dave's glasses lit up, and the ever-familiar pesterchum message noise played,

Dave perked up, and muttered, "terezi again," turning to Evan, he added, "hold your horses for sec, i have to take this"

As his new-found...ally...began to fiddle with his glasses, Evan sat and sipped some more juice. Glancing at the lava below, he figured that once he linked up with Chester and Chris, things would fall into place, and everything would end perfectly. After-all, this "Jack" fellow sounded like a total pushover,

What could go wrong?

 _ **A/N: Wow, I had no idea writing Dave would be this hard. I don't quite think I did this justice, but I hope you guys don't find him too OOC and awful. Anyway, thank you for reading, and Merry Christmas!**_


	28. Act II: Chapter 3

_**A/N: Hello again lads and lasses! I have returned, with another swift update! YAY!**_

 _ **Anyway, here's the Chester/Jade Chapter, and as explained earlier, due to strange timey-wimey shenadigans, this simultaneously takes place midway through the canon ACT 5, and at the same time as the two prior ACT II chapters, both of which took place at the start of the cannon ACT 5... so hopefully that doesn't confuse you all too much.**_

 _ **Anyway, I own nothing, save the OCs and the Camper, happy upcoming New Year, and please Review.**_

 _ **I sincerely hope you folks enjoy.**_

Chester suddenly snapped into consciousness.

He was so tired that even opening his eyes seemed like an impossible task. His brain felt mushy and dazed and exhausted. Still, it at least had the capacity to process one thought.

Cold.

He was so cold.

With that one thought, he finally shook off the last clinging vestiges of unconsciousness. Though his entire body ached, and he was too exhausted to even stand up, Chester was now finally conscious, and began to slowly take mental awareness of his surroundings.

...After a few seconds, he was able to, indeed, confirm that it was, in fact, really cold.

Thinking as hard as he could, Chester then tried to remember what had happened...

He vaguely remembered a strange silver platform... Arguing with Evan... Then... he wasn't sure. It was probably Evan's fault though. Most everything usually was.

Normally, he would have tried to open his eyes, get up and figure out what was going on, but at the moment, despite the biting cold, he felt rather comfortable in his current position, and he sure as hell was in no shape to move around. Though he knew such thinking was dangerous, and that one shouldn't sleep out in the snow, lest they didn't wish to wake again, he was simply too tired, and his brain powerless to resist. At this stage, and after all the crap he put up with, Chester figured he could rest a little bit, before figuring out just what the hell was going on now...

...

...

...

Seemingly no more than a few moments had passed before some form of hard cylinder sharply poked him in the back, jerking him awake once more. It was accompanied by a... _girl's_ voice?

"alright bub. who the heck are you, and what are you doing here?" The strange female voice interrogated.

At that, Chester would have jumped up in shock, were it not for the whole aching and tired body thing... so he instead cracked open his eyes. After flinching from the sheer brightness of the white landscape around him, his eyesight quickly adjusted itself, and he was able to discern that he was, in fact, lying face-first in snow. ' _Well that explains things._ ' he thought to himself, before trying to identify whoever was poking him.

As he tried to slowly stagger to his feet, the foreign object poked him again, and the voice repeated itself,

"HEY! you stay still. now how did you get here? and what do you want?"

Exasperated, and too tired to argue, Chester stopped moving, and called out to the mysterious individual behind him, "Look. I don't mean any harm. My name's Chester Dunwich. I have no idea where I am. Or how I got here." then, he added in annoyance, "Although. If you could stop poking me. That would be much appreciated."

For a few moments, the voice was silent, assessing his answer, before continuing, "okay, i guess you're harmless enough, up you go."

Chester lay flat for a moment, before shakily putting his arms out, and staggering to his feet.

Glancing around, he noticed that the owner of the voice, was none other than a strange girl. She seemed about his age, and had long, dark hair, with striking green eyes framed by glasses. For whatever reason, she was out in knee-deep snow in some sort of unholy fusion of a lab-coat and a dress.

Oh, and she was pointing a rifle at him.

Immediately, his reaction was to put his arms in the air in a gesture of surrender. Then, he realized two things; he was a god-tier, and had little to fear from a small calibre rifle, and secondly, that there were only three people, counting himself, in his session. So that begged the question, _who even was this girl?_

Looking him over, she hesitantly lowered the rifle a fraction, and asked, "so what are you doing here, i mean, where did you even come from?"

Chester observed his surroundings, noting that the surrounding snow-capped mountains, and the surrounding green-barked trees, did not appear to be Earth-like, in any shape or form. Furthermore, a large white tower stood nearby, and stuck out from it's surroundings like a sore thumb. He quickly came to the conclusion that this was likely another planet in Sburb.

The girl frowned. Noting her annoyance, Chester answered as best he could, "Well. I'm from a Sburb session. However. Since you certainly weren't part of our group. And I definitely don't recognize anything about this planet. I can therefore only conclude that I've somehow accidentally entered your session."

Her expression softened, and she replied, "well, this is a Sburb session. we've got three other people here, and you definitely aren't one of them, so yeah, i guess you must be from another game." Completely lowering her rifle, she asked, "im guessing you don't know how you got here?"

Chester shrugged, "Not a clue."

This got him thinking though, how _did_ he get here? The last thing he remembered was getting out of the falling dreadnought, ...things happening...and then they were all on a silver platform together. Somehow, he had gone from his session, to a complete different one. Obviously, the strange house thing and it's door had something to do with it, except that it's door was broken, and his space powers were commanding him to go and do a whole bunch of other stuff in order to fix it. So, the question was; how did the door majjykally activate?

Despite his memory-searching, he couldn't come up with any satisfactory answers. Still, he could come up with a simple stop-gap answer in the meantime; Evan. It was likely Evan's fault. So Chester decided to run off that hypothesis until proven wrong.

Since he was stuck in this new session for the foreseeable future, it only made sense to learn as much about it as possible.

"Do you know what's going on in this session?" He asked the girl,

"honestly?" she said, before grinning, "Not a clue"

"i used to know all sorts of neat things," she continued, her smile fading "but then my dream-self on Prospit...died, and now i don't really know anything anymore"

"Dreamself?" Chester asked, genuinely confused. This sounded like something he ought to know,

"you don't know?" she asked, bewildered "how far in your session did you get?"

Chester looked down, embarrassed, "Errr...We won. I think. The Black King died. There was a silver platform...and a door...That's about where I stop remembering things actually."

the girl raised her eyebrow quizzically, "seriously?"

"Can you please tell me?" Chester demanded, exasperated

"sorry, i just thought it was common knowledge" she smiled apologetically, "anyway, the dreamselves are alter-egos of the players that sleep on Prospit and Derse. when you go to sleep, your consciousness controls your dream-self, who wakes up and does things."

Chester frowned, "I don't think anything of the sort happened with me..."

"that's odd" she commented,

"Indeed."

"anyway," she continued, "Prospitian dreamers can see the future, by looking into the clouds on Skaia, when the planet comes close enough." her pleasant demeanour turning grim as she continued, "everything was fine on Prospit, until..."

"...Um. It's alright if you don't want to talk about it..." Chester awkwardly muttered, not exactly comfortable with the potentially upsetting direction the conversation was going,

"no, it's okay." she replied, regaining her composure and resuming the explanation, "Prospit was...destroyed by a rogue dersite archagent called Jack Noir. my dreamself...died during the planet's destruction"

"He destroyed an entire planet? How?" Chester asked, in disbelief. Clearly the rouge agent must have used a large bomb, or a captured spaceship or something. Planets didn't just self-destruct because a single person punched the surface, or used majjyk powers, or anything like that.

"Jack stole the Black Queen's ring, and got the powers of the prototyped sprites from it. then he just went nuts and started killing everything." she said grimly,

"He blew up a planet because of something you guys prototyped?" Chester asked, not really wanting to know the answer, "What on Earth did your group prototype?"

"well," the girl began, "it's kinda my fault..."

"Still." Chester continued, "I can't even imagine what kind of an object could make such a brokenly powerful sprite"

"i wasn't going to make it into the medium in time," the girl began to explain, growing visibly shaken and upset, "John was going to prototype something weak in my kernel-sprite to weaken Jack. but my dog, Bec... leapt into the sprite instead, and used it to blow up an approaching meteor, and... bought me enough time to enter." she then glanced at the ground, and softly muttered, "...good dog,"

Chester frowned, "Um. I'm still confused. A prototyped _dog_ let this Jack fellow blow up Prospit?"

The girl opposite him smiled thinly, "Becquerel...wasn't exactly a normal dog..."

"I never would have guessed." he dryly observed,

"Bec was what was known as a First Guardian," she explained. Before noting Chester's blank expression, and asking, "and i'm guessing you don't know what that is ether?" to which he responded with a nod, nudging her out of her sadness and prompting her to once again, explain,

"well, we don't really know what a first guardian is, or why they appear on planets, but we know what they're capable of," the girl began, "a first guardian is a powerful, ancient being that is basically omnipotent and omniscient. we know they can teleport, warp reality, and seemingly live forever."

Chester's eyes widened, "So...Your dog. Bec. Was an omnipotent being that could teleport?"

"essentially."

"What the hell? How does that even work? Was he like a normal dog then in appearance? Or did he glow in the dark and float off the ground? How does that work?"

The girl paused in thought, and replied, "it seems that all first guardians are pure white, and glow green occasionally." before quickly adding, "but Bec's the only one we actually ever encountered, so take that with a grain of salt."

Taking a step back, Chester ran things through in his head, thankful that his new space powers let him understand all this strange new stuff. Looking back up at the girl, he asked, genuinely somewhat concerned,

"So this Jack fellow can now teleport anywhere he wants? And he's now omniscient? How are you all still alive?"

"not from lack of effort on his part," she replied, shrugging slightly, "it just seems that he's really violent and aggressive, but not very smart, so he gets sidetracked easily."

"I thought you said he was omniscient?" Chester questioned,

"well, nearly omniscient, and i guess the fusion of a carapacian and a dog must have really messed up his brain," she guessed,

Chester nodded, feeling especially thankful that they weren't dealing with an omnipotent, teleporting, hyper aggressive killing machine. Just a _somewhat_ omnipotent, teleporting, hyper aggressive killing machine. He then found his thoughts turning to how he had gotten here. Vague memories and recollections of the last events in his own session drifted through his mind, but little sense was made. It was quite obvious that, once again, there were many details of which he was simply unaware. Though he resented not holding all of the facts, Chester knew that there was little that could be done about it at the moment. Right now, he needed to try and contact his friends, and continue grilling this girl for information.

"So. Is there anything else completely obvious that I don't know yet?" He asked, trying to get off the unsettling subject of teleporting planet killers,

The girl shrugged, "i think that's about it,"

Turning to the white tower in the distance, that was likely her house, she offered, "since you're stuck here for the foreseeable future, how about you stick with our group? we could certainly use all the help we can get with fighting jack!"

Chester shrugged, "Don't really have a choice. Do I?"

She grinned and shook her head, "nope! seems like you're stuck with us!"

Smiling thinly, he replied, "Well. I suppose I can think of worse places to be stuck."

"that's the spirit!"

Glancing at her house, the girl then said, "it's been nice chatting, but i really need to get inside and start prototyping stuff." Walking to the foot of the tower, she called over her shoulder, and added, "you can come along too, if you want,"

With no other real option, Chester nodded and followed the girl up a shallow, snowy, incline towards the building. Then, it hit him.

He had spent so much time talking to the girl about assorted information, that he had never actually learned her name.

"Hey. Umm excuse me?" he called forwards,

"yeah?" Came the brisk reply. To the point, but not unfriendly

"I just realized. I don't even know your name."

She stopped, softly muttering, "oh", Before turning around, straitening her collar, and sticking out her hand, "well then. it's Jade, Jade Harley, nice to meet you."

Chester shrugged, and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you Ms. Harley."

She smiled, "likewise. now then, let's get to work."

 _ **A/N: I really have nothing to say here...**_

 _ **...well, thanks for reading!**_


	29. Act II: Chapter 4

**_A/N: Salutations folks! I apologize for the long wait, but exam time has once again rolled around, before I could make a new chapter and let you guys know about it. This will likely be the last chapter until the end of January._**

 ** _Anyway, I own nothing save the OC's and the Winnebago, I hope you all enjoy, and I would like to thank all (see: one person) who reviewed! Without further ado, the chapter:_**

Chris was bored.

Somewhere on the Land of Light and Rain, he and Rose had been flying around for the past while, he with gog-tier powers, she with dark majjyks. She was clearly looking for something, and being rather shifty about it, but Chris was unobservant and oblivious, so he saw nothing out of the ordinary, and just tagged along, happy at the excuse to simply fly around some more.

At the moment, they were sitting on a massive violet ruin, that partially jutted out of the glistening ocean. Rose was messaging some alien or something on her computer-goggles, so Chris was left to his own devices.

Needless to say, he was bored.

This was far from the exciting adventure he was promised.

After a full minute of sitting there, Chris's patience had run out. Getting up, he navigated across the uneven surface of the ancient ruin, and approached the nice girl.

"imbored..." he whined, trying to get her attention,

"Hold on one moment, Christopher," She called over her shoulder, continuing to message her mysterious alien contact.

Finishing, she slipped her goggles onto her forehead, and turned to him.

"Please excuse that." she stated, adding "My time was urgently needed. There was an uppity stranger that needed to be put in her place."

Glancing down at the roughly spherical, stone building they stood on, she continued, saying, "I suppose that we should find a way inside. I was told that the information we seek lies within."

Chris smiled, finally, they were doing something. Taking to the air, he swiftly did multiple passes around the outside of the ruin, and to his dismay, found no ways in.

Floating back over to Rose, he called down, "Howdowe getin? It'sall solidrock!"

A contemplative frown fell across her features for a few moments, as she stared at the stone monolith beneath her feet. As Chris landed, she got an idea...

Motioning for him to move back, she drew her wands, and began to charge black majjyks within them. Just as Chris floated off the structure and out of the way, she unleashed the raw power shackled within the twin wands.

Dark energy shattered stone, sending fragments flying outwards. With a swift and precise beam, Rose began burrowing a way into the heart of the stone temple, the ancient stone slabs offering no resistance to her power.

Within moments, they had breached the innermost sanctum, and she ended the beam. A devastated tunnel of shattered stone, and powderized rock led into the monolith's black interior.

Projecting a bubble of light from her wands, she landed in the tunnel's mouth, and with Chris flanking her, entered the blackness.

For a few moments, they followed the gently sloping tunnel into the structure's depths. The air noticeably cooled, much to Chris's relief. Happy to be in darkness, he pushed on ahead, leaving Rose's bubble of soft, purple light.

They both arrived in a cavernous room shortly after. Much of it's walls were decorated with carvings of assorted lizards and other consorts. To Chris's particular interest, some of the carvings appeared to shine in the weak light...

As he wandered off to investigate, Rose found herself drawn to a massive depiction of a green star. With great interest, she scrutinized the surrounding hieroglyphs, attempting to pry as much information about the Green Sun as possible from the walls.

Passing her gaze over the weathered script, she felt she understood. Contrary to her initial assumptions, the Green Sun was not actually in their universe, instead residing in the Furthest Ring.

She frowned, this would complicate matters. Initially, after it became apparent that Jack Noir had become unstoppable, she had concluded that... unorthodox tactics, would be required to succeed. If rules made the game unbeatable, then she would simply _break_ the rules.

So far, she had heard brief snippets about a hypothetical "Green Sun", which was some form of "power source" for first guardians. It naturally fell to reason that, if it could be destroyed, then Jack would become beatable.

The carvings before her laid out a very intriguing tale. The Green Sun, as it were, was indeed a star, albeit a hyper-massive one. It resided in the Furthest Ring, a bleak place outside the universe, a dark void without time or space. Clearly, even entering it, let alone finding a star in such a place would be near impossible.

Much to her disappointment, she couldn't see any information about how to actually _destroy_ the sun, or even how to find it. Prophesying that it was in the Furthest Ring was all well and good, but it never actually mentioned how to find or reach it.

She let out a sigh of frustration, massaging her temples. She needed more knowledge, more time. There were still too many pieces of the puzzle that hadn't yet fallen into place.

Just as she was about to declare this temple a bust, and move onto the next one, she heard a frightened yelp from the darkness behind her.

Sharply turning on her heel, she stared into the darkness beyond her wand's flickering light. Seconds later, Chris barrelled out of the dim depths of the room, incoherently burbling.

Puttering to a stop beside her, he quickly stammered, "it'snotmy fault."

She raised an eyebrow. "I never said anything."

Chris flinched, "alrightitwas shinyandI tookit. Andthenthe wallsstartedshaking. Imsorry."

As the surrounding walls began to convulse with tremors, she glanced at him, "What did you take?"

"imnot sure. Itspretty though" he muttered, glancing with concern at the shaking ceiling, which had begun to rain small pebbles upon them.

Thoroughly fed up with the building's amateur theft security, and the state of the day's affairs, Rose simply raised her wands, and unleashed a blinding flash of light.

Ancient stone easily crumbled before the brilliant beam of black majjyks, and within moments the entire cavernous roof had been blasted away, allowing sunlight to fill the room.

Stopping the blast, Rose nodded to the torn-open roof, and said "If there is nothing else to see here, we should take our leave." With that, she blasted upwards, followed by a sheepish Chris.

They flew upwards, through the devastated and charred roof, and outside. From there, Chris followed the girl for a few minutes, as she flew across the surrounding water, towards some unknown destination.

Soon, they set down on a sunny beachhead, buffeted by gentle waves. Coming to a landing beside her, Chris fumbled with his modus, and uncaptchalogued the shiny he had found in the ruin.

Puffing his chest out with pride, he offered it to his new, _other_ smart friend to analyze...

XXXXX

Rose was consulting her mental map of the surrounding ruins and trying to figure out where to visit next, when a white sphere was suddenly thrust into her face.

"Checkitout! Ifoundit insidetheplace!" Chris jubilantly exclaimed.

Hesitantly, Rose took it, muttering a quick 'thanks', and cast an appraising eye over it. Upon first inspection, it appeared to simply be an oversized white ball. Likely ceramic or something in origin.

However, a second glance revealed...disconcerting things about the object. Firstly, it was in completely and utterly pristine condition, lacking even the minutest of scratches upon it's polished surface. For something that had presumably lain inside an ancient temple since time immemorial, this was a very notable red-flag. Furthermore, there was something simply...off about it. Looking at it made her vision fuzzy and unfocused. It was as if...there was an internal dimension to the ball, and the outer shell was transparent...

Except the outer shell was clearly solid...

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, she gazed into it's depths...

XXXXX

Chris was once-again, bored.

Rose had spent the past few minutes staring intently at the shiny ball he found, muttering incoherently. After a few moments, he had gotten tired of waiting for her to do something, so he had wandered away, sat down, uncaptchalogued his laptop, and opened _**Light Souls**_.

As he was about to load his last save, and return for his forty-fifth attempt at defeating Yagadaboolog, the dark lord of BlightVille, when suddenly his pesterchum lit up with a notification.

Curiously eager, he minimized his game, (silently vowing to someday defeat the unbeatable boss), and opened the chat-client, hoping to see one of his friends there.

Instead, much to his dismay and surprise, a completely strange username was pestering him.

 **-GrimAuxiliatrix [GA]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]-**

GA: Greetings

GA: You Are The Rose Human's Companion, Correct?

IC: errmaybe.

IC:Hithere.

IC:whoareyou?

GA: Oh, I Forgot To Introduce Myself. Sincerest Apologies.

GA: My Name Is Kanaya Maryam.

IC: Hi

IC: mynameisChris

GA: Indeed.

GA: I Was Hoping To Solicit Your Assistance And Discretion In A Certain Matter.

IC: whatdoesassistance mean?

IC: andthe otherwordtoo...

GA: Regardless, I Would Be Most Pleased If You Would Assist Me In A Certain Matter Pertaining To Rose.

GA: You See. We Two Are Currently Engaged In A...Battle Of Wits, So To Speak.

IC: Isee...

GA: In Order To Obtain The Upper Hand, I Must Ask For Your Assistance In Determining Avenues Of Verbal Assault Upon The Lalonde Girl.

IC: Idontknow

IC: Thatsoundsmean

IC: idont reallygetit, butitstill soundsmean

GA: There Is Really Nothing To Be Concerned About. All I Ask Is That You Tell Me Things About The Rose Human, That Can Be Used To Outwit Her.

IC: Well...Imkindaa newfriend, butIcan tellyousomestuff thatEvanand Chesteruse whenarguing, ifthatwould help.

GA: You Offer Human Verbal Battle Strategies? That Would Be Very Acceptable. My Thanks.

IC: Well, Chesteralways makesEvanfeel dumbby usingallkinds ofsciencewords andcallingEvannames, likeanuncultured brute. Idont reallyknow whatthatmeans, butit soundsmean.

IC: Evanreacts byalwaysthreatening bodilyviolenceagainst Chester, andtheusual argumentthat hecouldbeat Chesterup.

GA: ...I See. Humans Resolve Such Matters Through Vivid Threats Of Violence...

GA: Your Species Seems Closer To Our Own Than I Had Initially Assumed.

GA: Thank You For Your Assistance.

IC: Wait...species?that'slike theword chesteruses foralienstuff!

IC: AREYOUANALIEN!?

IC: THATWOULDBE SOCOOL!

GA: I Suppose That To Humans, I Would, Indeed Be An "Alien"

IC: Thatssoawesome!

IC: What'syourname?Mine'sChris! Whatdoyou guyslooklike?areyouallgrey andthin withbig eyes?

IC: doyouhaveflyingsaucers? Haveyoueverprobedanyone? Doyoustealcows?

GA: ...Err...

GA: My Name Is Kanaya Maryam, As I Have Previously Stated.

GA: Our Species Is Called "Trolls," And We Hail From The Planet Of Alternia.

GA: I Do Not Have Any Recollection Of Any Device Known As A "Saucer", Or Any Object Known As A "Cow"

GA: And I Am Unfamiliar With The Term, "Probing"

GA: Would I Be Amiss In Assuming It Is Some Form Of Activity Related To Human Matespriteships?

IC: ummmm...

IC: youtalk justlikeChester

IC: Icantunderstand aword.

GA: Indeed.

GA: Well, I Have Further Activities To Preform, So I Must Take My Leave.

GA: Goodbye Chris Human.

IC: Byenice alien.

- **GrimAuxiliatrix [GA]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

After the message window closed, Chris sat in silence for a few moments, brain buzzing. He had just talked to an alien! A really nice one, too!

...Chester was going to be so jealous...

Shame they didn't have flying saucers, though. Chris always thought those were the coolest methods of space travel. His daydreams of chrome hallways, blinky lights, and vistas of space were interrupted by Rose 'aheming' behind him.

Turning around, captchaloguing his laptop in the process, Chris smiled, "arewe goingto thenewruins now?" he asked excitedly,

Rose, who was still clutching the strange white ball, shook her head slightly, replying with a curt, "I don't think so."

Glancing at the ball, she added, "I think I have what we came for. We should get back to the house. I have much research to do."

Chris's smile widened, he was ecstatic to get out of the sun. Although, he was a little bit curious as to what they were even doing. ( _Only now_ had it actually occurred to him to even ask about it),

"sayRose," he ventured,

"Yes?" came the smooth, cultured reply,

"welliwaswondering whatweareeven doing. Whyarewegoingaround toallthese ruinsandplaces?"

He then quickly added, "notthatI'mbored oranything, thisissuperfun. Ievengot totalkto areallive alien!"

Rose froze. "...Alien?" She ventured, trying (and succeeding) to sound nonchalant,

"yeahtherewas areallynice alienladythatItalked toonpesterchum." Chris rambled, "shewassupernice."

Turning to his companion, he remembered something, and jovially exclaimed, "ohyeah! Sheasked aboutyou! Sheseemedto alreadyknowyouor something. Ithinkhername was...Can-eye-ah, orsomethinglike that."

Rose's eyes narrowed at the name, but she remained quiet, motioning for Chris to continue.

"andyeah, shewassupernice...usedalot ofbigandfunny 's probablyprettysmart too."

"Say, Chris. What did she talk to you about?", Rose delicately enquired.

"Oh,shesaidshe wasina battleofWheats withyou,andshe neededmyhelp. Imnotsure howyoucan fightwithwheat, butitsounds superfun, canyouteach mehow?" Chris rambled on,

"She wanted advice on how to get to me." Rose stated, her gaze burrowing through Chris's helmet and intimidating him into confessing,

"imsorry! Shewassonice and igottaken offguard! Ishouldn'thave talkedtoher aboutyou"

"It's alright Chris. There is little harm done. What did you tell her, though?" Rose asked, lowering her voice and speaking more gently,

Chris calmed down a bit, and began to explain, "Ididntactually knowmuch aboutyou, but Ididtell herabout stuffEvanand Chesterdo whenthey argue." waving his arms for emphasis, he continued, "Chesterofteninsults Evanwithsuper complicatedwords. Once,hecalledEvan animbecile sostupid hemakesall otherAmericans looklike geniusesbycomparison..."

Pausing slightly and frowning, he added, "idon'tsee howthat'san insulthough, hejustcalled Americansgeniuses...it'sactuallykinda nice."

"Oh yes," Rose agreed, with a barely hidden eye-roll, "That is certainly the highest of compliments,"

"iknow,right?" Chris said, before resuming, "chester'ssosmart thatmost ofhisinsults don'teven makeany sense."

"What about this Evan friend of yours, though?" Rose asked, somewhat concerned about the answer, as this individual had already been described as violent, aggressive, and an outright team-killing murderer,

"Evan'sreactionwas usuallythesame, he'djustcall chesteraweakling, andthreatento beathimup inreallife."

Rose was not surprised.

"He truly seems like a _wonderful_ friend." She dryly observed,

Chris nodded animatedly, "Iknowright? Sure,he'sallviolent, andhehitsme 'ssuperloyal backwhenchester complainedabout bullies,evanhad metracetheir e-mails,andthenhe...gotincontact withthem..."

Trailing off ominously, Chris continued, seemingly not noticing the grim subtext, "andafterthat, Chesterwasneverbullied again!"

"Evan'sjustreally...directandhonest aboutthings, isall." Chris finished up,

Rose still wasn't particularly convinced, but she nonetheless nodded and smiled.

"howabout yourfriends?" Chris asked,

She paused for a moment, thinking fondly about her friends for a few moments, before answering,

"Well, John is cheery, exuberant, and a connoisseur of particularly awful cinematic pictures, Dave is a self-professed " _master of irony_ " (the rolling sarcasm at that point was so thick it could practically be seen with the naked eye), who is a dabbling musician, artist, and photographer, and of course Jade, is the metaphorical glue that holds our friendship together, with her endless optimism, and good-nature."

"Yourfriendssound reallynice, canImeetthem?" Chris asked, always happy to meet new people,

Rose smiled, "Certainly"

Turning her gaze back to the white orb in her grasp, she added,

"I suppose we have obtained what we came for, after all." turning back in the direction of her home, she continued, "We should return now, I have much work to do..."

Chris nodded, before glancing suspiciously at the orb, and asking, "whatevenis thatthing?"

Speaking with exaggerated emphasis, as if she was weaving a tale for a six year old, she began, "Oh, this? It is a... defunct and unavailing trinket..."

"It has some information inscribed that I wish to study further, but it is really nothing worth speaking of," she lied.

Chris's excited smile faded,

"that'sit?" he asked, disappointed, "but...but...ijusthought itmighthelp youinyourinvestigaton..."

Casting his gaze downward, he muttered, "imsorryfor wastingyourtime"

Her expression softened, and she encouragingly said "It's quite alright, Chris. They can't all be gems."

Chris cheered slightly at the praise, and said, "sowe'releaving now?"

Rose nodded, "Yes."

Taking a moment to gather her concentration, she entered the sky, wands at her sides, with Chris following somewhere behind. Internally, she smiled. This artifact might just be what she needed to save her friends, and the entire session...

XXXXX

Rose lounged upon a couch in her sitting room, peering into the depths of the milky-white orb. Elsewhere in the house, Chris had wandered off to try and find a comfortable place to begin messaging his friends, wherever in the session they may be.

Her thoughts turning to the strange boy that had showed up on her literal doorstep, she frowned ever so slightly. He was quite simple-minded, and had proved to be rather endearing, but she still was a long way from trusting him.

Heck, with her current plans, even her closest friends couldn't quite be trusted. They would insist on finding other ways, on being more careful. Kanaya in particular, openly criticized her plan, and was quite distrustful of her more...unsavoury sources of information. Still, the strange alien girl, who Rose had come to somewhat admire, (not that she would ever admit it, mind you) had eventually agreed to the necessity of such actions, and had offered her hesitant support.

Still, there remained the matter of the strange boy sitting in her kitchen. Though she likely would never fully trust him, Rose was at least satisfied that he had no ulterior motives, and could prove to be helpful if properly directed.

He had, after all, brought her the orb...

Glancing back at the object in her hands, Rose shivered slightly. The artifact outright _felt_ otherworldly, and it's exterior seemed to shift and twist, as if she could see _into_ the ball. When she had earlier subtly tested Chris to see if he noticed it too, she was quite unsettled to discover that he saw nothing trans-mundane about the ball. Logically, it thus followed that she was the only one capable of seeing "into" the sphere.

How strange...

Staring closer into it's seemingly endless, labyrinthine depths, she could faintly see something...blue, shifting beneath the smoking mists of white that filled the seemingly hollow ball.

Then, a sudden impulse to...ask the ball a question? Ran through her mind. Being no stranger to the strange mental phenomena of Sburb, Rose simply took a deep breath, and asked it something that had been on her mind for quite some time...

"What are you?"

For a few heartbeats, the ball did nothing, and she felt incredibly foolish. Then, however, the mists within it parted, allowing a triangular slip of blue to the surface (almost like in a fortune telling 8-ball, she mused). Leisurely, words began to form upon it, giving an answer that was as unsettling as it was intriguing.

Rose was still for a moment, before lowering the ball, and smirking slightly.

This was, indeed, the very advantage she had been seeking...

XXXXX

Chris was sitting in a hard-backed chair in the dim kitchen, his laptop on the table, gently illuminating the room. He was browsing pesterchum, getting acquainted with the set of new chumhandles that greeted him. Glancing at the top corner of the screen, he frowned.

It appeared that Evan had messaged him earlier.

With growing trepidation, he clicked to see the unread chatlog. Evan frequently got...upset when his summons went unanswered.

To his immense relief, Chris saw that the only messages were instructions from Evan to contact him as soon as possible, and a brief explanation on Evan's current whereabouts.

Apparently, his friend was on a lava planet of some kind, with a potentially communist Texan named "Dave". Chris paused in thought.

Dave...

He had heard that name before...that was one of Rose's friends...the one that liked movies and stuff. Yeah, that sounded about right.

Still, Chris was pleased that Evan was okay, (and hadn't hurt anyone yet), and wrote to tell him exactly that. After a short contemplative pause, he also gave a brief summary of the supernice girl he had met, and the cool treasure hunting trip they went on, where he had totally found all the best loot single-handedly, and pretty much saved the whole... expedition? He wasn't quite sure what that word meant, but Chester had used it in similar topics, so Chris figured it made him sound wiser.

Evan was so going to be impressed by Chris's dashing heroic plundering.

His messaging to Evan finished, he turned back to talk to Rose, when his pesterchum beeped again...

To his surprise, yet another odd chum-handle was displayed upon his screen.

 **-arsenicCatnip [AC]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]-**

AC: :33 hi there, are you the rose human?

IC: uhhh...

IC: nope!ImtheChris human!

AC: :33 oh

AC: :33 that's disapawninting

IC: ...err,whydoyou needRose?

IC: canIhelp?

AC: :33 pawsibly

AC: :33 i want to talk to the rose human's delightful sprite

IC: hmmm

IC: Idontthink iveever evenseen herspritebefore

IC: sorryaboutthat

AC: :33 aww, that's disappawinting

IC: I'msure Rosewould knowwherehe was, ifyouwanted totalkto her.

AC: :33 that's what i was doing, i thought you were her

IC: oh,alrightthen

IC: herpesterchum accountis

IC: tentacleTherapist...ithink

AC: :33 aww, thanks, chris human!

AC: :33 *ac smiles happily and waves in thanks*

IC: say...human...!

IC: AREYOUANOTHER ALIEN?

AC: :33 yeah!

IC: ohwowthat'sso cool

IC: whatsyourname?

IC: doyouknowthe Can-eye-ah TrollAlien?

IC: do _you_ havea flyingsaucer?

AC: :33 well... my name is nepeta leijon,

AC: :33 im not sure what a "saucer" is, but it sounds clawsome,

AC: :33 and...do you mean kanaya?

IC: well,imChrisBaxter, itsnicetomeetyou Nepeta

IC: andyeah,iguess ididmean Kanaya

IC: Youknowher?

IC: She'sreallynice

AC: :33 yeah, she is

AC: :33 say, chris human, do you like to rp?

IC: rp?

AC: :33 roleplay, silly!

IC: ivenevertried, butsure!

AC: :33 *ac is relaxing in her cave, resting after a kill*

IC: ummm *Chrisenters thecaveand wavesHI!*

AC: :33 *ac stares at the intruder fur a few moments, twitching whiskers*

IC: uh... *Chrisstandsstill, andwaits. Thinkingthismay nothavebeena goodidea*

AC: :33 *ac slowly appurroaches the intruder...*

IC: *Chrisbegins planningtorun away*

AC: :33 *and offurs him a bowl of warm milk*

IC: oh,

IC: *Chrisfaints fromshock*

IC *faints*

AC: :33 *ac sh33pishly shrugs*

AC: :33 *shrug*

IC: *Chrisremains unconscious*

IC: idont likewherethis isgoing

IC: plzdont eatme

AC: :33 stop meta-gaming. -_-

IC: Sorry

IC: *chrissleepily mutters,"sorry"*

AC: :33 that's better!

AC: :33 aww, it seems karkitty is calling me,

AC: :33 i gotta go, chris

AC: :33 it's been fun!

AC: :33 i'll see you later!

IC: bye!

- **arsenicCatnip [AC]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Chris was left staring at the computer, beaming widely. He wasn't exactly sure who exactly he had talked to, but she seemed really nice. Glancing towards the sitting room, he was about to get up and check on Rose, when his pesterchum beeped once again.

To his immense surprise, the chum-handle was none other than Evan's...

 _ **A/N: So... things are happening. Anyway, Exams should be over by the end of the month, and we can likely expect an increase in update speed. Thank you all for bearing with me, please review, and have a pleasant day, folks.**_


	30. Act II: Chapter 5

_**A/N Salutations folks, the second semester has begun, and my update time will hopefully increase now. Apologies for the long wait on this one, it honestly shocked me how large this one got. I kinda just kept adding and adding to it, as there weren't really any good places to stop. Anyway, as always, I own nothing, save the OC's, praise be unto lord Hussie, any and all comments, criticism, what-have-you is welcomed and appreciated.**_

 _ **(Srsly, plz comment, I'm so needy)**_

 _ **And, as always, I hope you all enjoy.**_

Upon a Land of Heat and Clockwork, two figures were slowly making their way across a heat-blasted tunnel of stone.

While Dave was engrossed in conversation with his alien friend through his spectagoggles, Evan merely trudged forward, mildly resentful that he hadn't gotten to kill anything yet. The Dave fellow made for excellent (if confusing) conversation...that is, when he wasn't ignoring him in favour of some strumpet on the internet, Evan mentally remarked.

Absentmindedly running his hand over his sword again, Evan scanned the surroundings. This blasted tunnel they'd entered was damnably hot, and seemingly continued forever. He figured they'd been walking for well over ten minutes, and the surrounding crimson stones were just as monotonous as ever. He didn't even know what they were doing there, Dave simply explained that his troll friend had told him to go there.

Beneath his helmet, Evan frowned. This "Terezi" troll was already under suspicion of communism, and her shifty directions clearly indicated some form of agenda or plan...

Only filthy communist traitors had secret agendas and plans. He didn't like where this was going.

Glancing at his red-suited, stylish companion, Evan decided that poor Dave was no doubt being manipulated by the evil communist agent. Sadly, he couldn't simply shoot Terezi and be done with it, as Evan hadn't even spoken to her before, let alone knew where she was.

As he was contemplating how best to figure out the commie spy's location, Dave flipped up his shades, and said "so tz's got it all figured out, she's all up in my shit about all her plans and stuff," shrugging, he added "i can barely even keep track of all the zany extra-dimensional shenanigans she wants me to do. i mean if plans were coins, she'd be like the billionaire of billionaires with the strange things she's got goin on."

"Where are we going now?" Evan asked distrustfully,

Nodding forwards, Dave said, "down this tunnel"

Restraining his urges to punch the red suited cool-kid, Evan released a huff of irritation, and rephrased his question, "What is our actual destination, and what are we going to do there?"

Smirking, Dave explained, "there's like a stock market or some-such over here. gonna up and do some time-travel shenanigans and cheat the system. we're gonna need like a few hundred metric giga-tons of boondollars to fund our future capers and schemes. get all double-oh-six villain up in here, and throw money at our problems until they go away."

Evan nodded appraisingly, abusing powers to gain wealth and power sounded brilliant to him. What he couldn't do to the North Korean communists with a windfall of a few million dollars... Unfortunately, all the politicians he had contacted in the continental United States had refused to give him a small loan of a million dollars. Something about "not funding terrorists and extremists".

...Stingy bastards.

Speaking to his companion, he commented approvingly, "I like your style, Dave"

Straightening his lapels, Dave gave a mock bow, "why thank you," he replied in a fake accent, "i'll have you know that i've got _all_ the style. all of it. I've got so much that i'm making a killing selling some to other less stylish folks, the business is growing so fast we've hit the fortune five-hundred, and we're already expanding overseas"

Evan simply shrugged in confusion. He didn't understand very much that Dave said. Still, at least he was pretty sure it wasn't some pansy passive aggressive insult. He got those from Chester all the time...

Bloody coward.

Grunting, Evan kept moving, and the pair soon lapsed into another silence.

After yet more walking, they finally emerged into a cavernous chamber. A massive stone sphinx, with the face of some sort of consort creature dominated the room, towering over the comparatively tiny kids. Lava flowed from the walls into two pools on either side of the chamber.

Evan coughed, and put his mask back on. The atmosphere in there was suffocatingly sweltering. Dave frowned and covered his face with his arm. Gesturing towards the sphinx, more specifically towards a small tunnel at it's base, Dave nodded to Evan.

"that's where terezi said the market was,"

Evan nodded in acknowledgement.

Upon an unspoken signal, the pair began to approach the towering structure, with Dave beginning to add muffled commentary,

"you know, this thing is just about the most uncreatively shitty thing about the game so far,"

"hmmm?" Evan muttered,

"i mean, its a completely plagiarized version of the real-life sphinx, albeit with some cheap, half-assed attempt to conceal their blatant theft by changing the face slightly. this is like the rockiest of rock bottom for plagiarism of architecture, if i was grading this thing, i'd like, have the designer expelled for such an insult to any thinking persons intelligence. i mean, do they really expect us to not notice their blatant rip-off of real earth artifacts?" Dave continued his rant,

Thoughtfully staring at it, Evan asked in bewilderment, "Wait, things like this exist on Earth"

Dave paused, "ummm...yeah?" he carefully answered,

"last time i checked there was one in like, egypt or somewhere, built like way back when in the ancient past, by a bunch of slaves and slavers with nothing better to do. i mean, if i had a slave, i'd have far better tasks for him than building stupid projects to overcompensate for...certain things,"

Evan stared at the sculpture, unconvinced, "I don't buy it," he finally said, adding, "have you ever seen this "spinks" in person"

Dave shrugged in confusion, "...no"

Evan triumphantly folded his arms, walking forwards, declaring, "I knew it, no-one on earth could build stuff like that without modern AMERICAN equipment, it's clearly just a tourist scam and a hoax,"

Dave shook his head slightly, muttering, "of course, it's clearly a scam, but you're way too sharp and on the ball for it to fool you,"

Evan frowned, "I'm not standing on a ball..." he quietly muttered in confusion,

Dave simply chuckled, and resumed his pace.

Joining him, Evan followed the coolkid to the "spinks's" entrance.

The carven entrance that led within the structure was tall and worn, a cool breeze washing down the passage towards them. Just as Dave took a step towards it, a multitude of roars and shrieks tore across the silent chamber.

They both whirled around, weapons drawn.

With an earthshaking roar, several of the massive one-eyed Giclopses emerged from the magma pools, spraying molten rock across the chamber. Evan noted that rather than having power-armour, tentacles, and spikes, these were clad in strange jester outfits, and were each missing their left arms.

' _Clearly, whoever was responsible for prototyping in this session, had done a far more practical job than we did,_ ' Evan mentally remarked, somewhat put-down about the fact that killing these things would be even less challenging.

As if in response to his thoughts, the trio of Giclopses that dominated the chamber were swiftly joined by a tide of goblins and imps and...strange lizard like monsters that crawled on the walls of the cavern.

Within moments, as Evan softly revved his sword, and Dave readied his own bladed instrument, along with a pair of curious... gear devices...that floated beside him, rotating slowly. Glancing at Evan and gesturing towards the Giclopses, Dave said, "so, big guy, think you can take the two on the right?"

Evan nodded, "you've got the other one?"

"yep on him like white on rice, or john on a shitty movie", came the drawling reply

The flying disks increased their turn speed, Evan's sword began to spin faster and faster, and as the surrounding hordes of minor enemies began to advance, Evan and Dave charged their ranks.

While Dave went and did his own thing, Evan changed from a run to a hover, and blasted into the swarm of minor foes with all the speed of a cannon ball, scattering his foes like bowling pins.

Landing, Evan spun his chainsword to full power, and grinned maliciously at the surrounding goblins and imps. A heartbeat later, the surrounding tide rushed forwards.

The next few moments blurred in his mind. He stabbed, and slashed, and shot them. Initially, all the multitudes that fell were quickly replaced, the tide of weak fodder threatening to engulf him. Fighting with all his strength, he cut down yet more, with many over-eager goblins shattering to grist before him.

Suddenly, a lone, opportunistic imp leapt out of the crowd at him, and raked it's claws across his back, prompting an enraged grimace. The offending foe was promptly hit so hard it instantly exploded. The meagre pain beginning to cloud his mind with steadily rising fury, Evan gutturally growled at the surrounding foes, who were beginning to reconsider their choice of opponent.

With a terrifying roar he lunged into their ranks...

...

...

Evan wasn't sure how much time had passed.

Leaning on his sword, he noticed that he stood knee-deep in grist, the enemies around him mostly scattered and routing. For some reason, his back ached, but it was of little consequence for now.

Glancing to the mass of foes that assailed Dave, Evan saw that the other boy was holding his own, grist covering the ground, and brief glimpses of sword strokes being visible through the chaos.

Vaguely, Evan remembered that he had a task to do...

Instinctually lunging backwards, he narrowly avoided a massive arm that came out of nowhere.

Glancing upwards, he noticed two giants, towering over the field. As the attacking one raised it's arm, and ponderously shuffled closer to him, Evan went to the air.

Lunging for the closest one, he weaved under a slow and clumsy punch, and carved his sword through the offending giant's arm for good measure. As his target pulled back, roaring in pain, Evan flew forwards swiftly, intent on removing it's eye and ending the fight with one thrust.

A second and third punch were also dodged, as the quadrupedal giant began to panic, backpedalling frantically through the magma. Casually manoeuvring around a fourth clumsy swipe, Evan found himself close enough to deliver the killing blow.

Darting towards it's singular eye, he thrust his sword into it, eliciting an ear-splitting roar of agony. Rapidly, he squeezed the other trigger on the handle three times in succession, launching multiple bullets into it's brain-pan.

Shuddering, the beast exploded into grist.

Sharply flicking the ichor off his chainsword, Evan glanced across the chamber at Dave's progress, interested in how the non god-tier was making out.

Dave's blade work and his twin flying disks had carved a deep path into the thick of the enemy ranks. The disks weaved in and out of the enemy ranks, scattering foes into grist with each pass. Occasionally, they would even intercept blows meant for their owner, allowing Dave to counter-attack.

The biggest thing that he noticed about Dave's fighting though, was that he was fast. Even for Evan, the other boy's movements were too swift to even follow. At some points...it was almost as if there were...several Daves down there...

Nah, it was clearly just a trick of the light.

Still, Evan judged that Dave was making excellent progress, tearing through the horde like a wood-chipper through a human arm...

Don't ask.

Evan was then (literally) knocked out of his observations by a massive fist, courtesy of the second Giclops, who he'd ignored the entire time.

Flying across the chamber with a long and drawn out curse, Evan slammed into the opposite wall, his helmet flying off, and slowly lifted himself back into the air. His back aching in protest, he shook his head, and gazed across the chamber, hatefully glaring at his attacker.

Just then, as he was about to engage it, a small trickle of blood made it's way down from his head. Slowly, Evan raised his hand to his face.

Lowering it, he silently inspected the small red smear on it.

After a moment, he looked up, and locked eyes with the Giclops across the chamber.

In that very moment, the Giclops felt very, very afraid...

XXXXX

Across the room, Dave Strider was waging his own battle against a Giclops.

Having skillfully dispatched most of the weaker enemies that initially rushed him, (with special thanks to all the future Daves that dropped by to help), he had promptly taken advantage of the thinned enemy ranks to mount one of his turntables, and take to the air on it, intending to take out his targeted foe.

His other circular implement of music and battle, was currently occupying his target by flying circles over the Giclopses' head, leading the dim-witted giant to ponderously swing at it with tree-trunk sized flailing arms.

Exploiting it's distraction, Dave extended his blade, caledscratch, and swept forwards, trying not to fall from his turntable. That would be messy. Like, walking around in Johns room, messy.

Weaving cautiously between the distracted giant's arms, Dave approached the head.

Only then, did the Giclops actually notice him, and begin moving it's arms to try and swat him.

It was too late.

With all the skill beaten into him at an early age by his brother, Dave weaved between the giant's lumbering swipes, and manoeuvred to it's head. A single thrust from the extended longsword was enough to explode the thing into grist.

In one movement, Dave simultaneously began to swiftly lower himself back to the ground, whilst also glancing at his companion's progress.

To his...unsettlement, Evan had completely slaughtered the entire half of enemies that had charged him, killed one of the two Giclopses, and was currently latched onto the face of the other one, having fore-gone his sword in favour of simply beating it's face in with a volley of punches so fast Dave couldn't even make them out. Each hit was more like the impact of a small cannon than an ordinary fist. The disconcerting sounds of breaking bones echoed across the enclosed cavern.

Mercifully for the brutalized Giclops, a final punch sent it out of it's misery, and shattered it into grist.

Now close enough to the ground, Dave hopped down, captchaloguing the turntables and his sword. All around him, the piles of grist left from the brief fight were quickly fading, transferring themselves to his grist storage. The few scattered imps and goblins left in the room wisely chose that moment to flee the room.

As Evan took a few deep breaths, looked around in disoriented confusion, and began to head downwards to catch up with him, Dave's thoughts turned to the origins of his own sword, for whatever reason.

Inwardly, he felt both pride and... an odd feeling of unease. On the one hand, the doomed timeline Dave's skills had saved their entire session, and netted him an over-leveled sword in the process, yet, Dave was unsure how he felt about there now being two Daves in the session. Well, one was a floating orange bird-sprite, but still. It was uncomfortable and disquieting. Still, he was grateful for Davesprite's help, and appreciated all the sacrifices the other Dave had made. To give your all just so that _another_ Dave could succeed where you had failed was a very depressing path.

His train of depressing thoughts was swiftly derailed as Evan came to land beside him, crushing some rock beneath his feet in the process.

Panting heavily, Evan breathlessly asked, "Is that it"

Casting an appraising eye over the rapidly routing remnants of the goblins and imps, Dave nodded. "yep, they're pretty much done, like so done that they're all black and crispy, like what you get when you fry a steak for too long and it starts to taste like charcoal. they're so done that fukin gordon ramsay is all up in your face now screaming about how badly you've overcooked them."

Shaking his head with exaggerated sweeps, Dave turned back to the entrance at the base of the sphinx, and continued, "how could you, man. you've burnt all our steaks and stuff, think of all the starving african orphans out there, weeping at all the food you just wasted..."

Quietly, he murmured, "im so disappointed in you..."

Evan just shrugged in confusion, "There's no food here..." he began, "what are you even talking about"

Dave simply shrugged, laughing, "i have absolutely no idea. tis just my inner wordsmith, going all cabin-fever on the other brain dwellers, holding them hostage at gunpoint until they publish all his ironically brilliant masterpieces."

Sighing for effect, he finished, "it's both a blessing and a curse to be so dashingly smooth and cool all the time."

Evan grunted in acknowledgement, at this point he didn't understand anything that the coolkid said.

Together, they entered the depths of the stone Sphinx's interior. A dim, slowly descending passage greeted them. Nonchalantly, Dave simply walked into the gloom, humming a catchy tune.

Warily uncaptchaloging his sword, Evan followed, on alert for more enemies...

XXXXX

Soon enough, the passage levelled out, dispensing them into a large, well lit, circular room. In the center, a massive conglomeration of machinery and display monitors rested, displaying what Evan recognized as the financial crap that got Chester all worked up. Instantly growing disinterested, he shifted his gaze to the numerous small dinosaurs that inhabited the room.

Entering the room and gesturing outwards with his arms, Dave declared,

"the lohac stock-exchange everybody...it's ah...more impressive if you don't look too closely"

The diminutive dinosaurs had reddish scales, and were running around the interior of the room aimlessly, making chattering noises. They were probably just Dave's consorts, but he still kept his chainsword close, just in case.

Lowering his spectagoggles, Dave turned to Evan, "well, i've got time-travel to do, and stock markets to plunder, so i'll be a while, might want to make yourself entertained or something."

With that, Dave headed over to the large terminal, with lines of indecipherable numbers flickering across it's numerous screens.

Content to wait, Evan uncaptchalogued his laptop, intending to try and contact Chris again, and see what the thief was upto.

Navigating through the various screens on pesterchum, Evan noted with growing concern that Chester's chum-handle still hadn't appeared. More erudite individuals would launch some manner of investigation into the matter, but as far as he was concerned, Chester could take care of himself. If he couldn't, then that was hardly Evan's fault.

Feeling a mere twinge of concern for his friend, Evan did _grudgingly_ resolve to give him a few more hours, then launch some kind of attempt to find him.

Regardless, he then navigated to Chris, and upon seeing that he was actually online, Evan sent him a somewhat annoyed message.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

EE: Chris, what the hell are you doing?

IC: eeeep!

IC:imsorryfor notreplyingto youimmediately!

IC:pleasedont bemad!

EE: Chris, I would say that im not mad, and that im just disappointed,

EE: …

EE: but that would be a blatant lie, so I won't

EE: im pretty pissed, man,

EE: Why would you ignore my summons, establishing communications behind enemy lines is super-important, you know

IC: wellimsorry, Rosetookme togoexploreruins andifound asupershiny ball

IC: andthensome alienstalked tomeon pesterchumandiwas busy

IC: imsorryEvan!

IC: :(

EE: ...*sigh*

EE: whatever, I guess,

EE: …

EE: Wait.

EE: Rose, That suspiciously sounds like a person

EE: A person that is neither me or Chester

EE: what's going on over there

IC: welliwoke upon abeach andifound ahouse

IC: andtheres aladynamed Rosethatlives there,

IC: andiguess thisis somekind ofother Sburbsession, andshe hasfriendshere somewhere

IC: theysound nice.

EE: no.

IC: what?

EE: I don't trust these people

EE: ...Well, Dave is pretty cool and all, but this could all be an elaborate trick

EE: you know how cowardly these communists are,

EE: Keep an eye on this "rose", I will do the same with Dave,

IC: thatsounds mean

EE: If they prove trustworthy, we can accept their aid,

EE: Otherwise...

IC: *Gulp*

EE: now then...

EE: wait a second, did you type "aliens"?

IC: ohyeah!

IC: imeta kanayaalien and anepeta alien, andthey'reboth supernice

EE: aliens aren't real chris,

EE: they're just a communist conspiracy, like global warming

IC: well...idontknow, they saidtheywere aliens,

IC: androse is reallysmart andshethinks they're realaliens

EE: well rose might not be trustworthy, Chris,

EE: you need to learn to stop being so damnably naive and gullible,

IC: imnot gullible!

EE: Chris, the only reason your computer hasn't imploded from all the spam you click on, is because you have a custom anti-virus.

EE: Once, you even told me that you were giving money to someone that owned a time-machine.

IC: HeY! Thatguywas just borrowingthemoney until hefixed thetimemachine

EE: Right,

EE: anyway, so what did these "aliens" tell you

EE: If you told them any classified information, I swear...

IC: whatdo youeven describeas "classifiedinformation"

EE: ...that's need-to-know information

IC: ...alright

IC: sowhatdo youwantme toevendo now?

EE: hmmm...

EE: I don't even know where Chester is, so i'll be working with Dave for now,

EE: as well as keeping an eye out for Chester,

EE: Apart from that, there dosen't appear to be too many options that don't involve working with these other kids,

EE: so for now, I guess co-operate with Rose, but keep an eye on her for... anti-american activities

IC: …alright, illdomy best,

EE: Good, I will speak to you again as more details appear

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **incoporealCriticist [IC]** -

Folding his laptop, Evan began to process what Chris had told him. Apparently, the thief was off gallivanting with some strumpet named Rose, likely blabbing all their secrets to her and her allies.

It wasn't that he disliked Dave, on the contrary, Evan found him a strangely amusing person to spend time with, but for the time being, he certainly didn't trust the other boy. As for the Rose girl, he hadn't even met her yet so he couldn't really ascertain her trustworthiness.

' _Knowing Chris,_ ' he mused, ' _he's probably already told her everything about us, as well as all his banking information and his own passwords_ '

Still, being on another planet meant that he was unfortunately limited in what he could actually do to contain the walking security breach that was his friend. Evan just frowned and hoped that Rose wouldn't use the information she no-doubtedly now had for nefarious and communist purposes.

As he continued internally going over possible worst-case scenarios, Dave returned (and all the other Daves inhabiting the room vanished) and poked him.

"hey man, you okay there? kinda startin to look like one of those creepy mannequins from a horror movie. don't get any funny ideas about eating my brains through a straw or something, ive got my eyes on you..."

Evan stared at Dave for a moment, before muttering an awkward grunt, and shrugging.

"...Are you done?" he finally asked,

"yep, got all the boondollars we could ever want or need, i've got so many that the local government is mustering every lizard and firing up every mint on the planet to make more because right now, their entire currency is ours to spend." Dave grinned.

"So now what?" Evan asked,

"well, tz said i've got a legendary sword to get, or some such, so we're probably gonna head over to wherever that is, and grab that."

Evan imperceptibly frowned, taking further orders from Terezi was hardly something he would enjoy doing. Still, to her credit, the (totaly not an alien) girl seemed to be steering them true so-far, so Evan would give her the benefit of the doubt... For now.

"Well then," he sighed, "lead the way, Dave"

Dave nodded, and the two set off towards the way they had entered. Around them, the many monitors were now showing downwards facing red arrows, and the many consorts that inhabited the stock exchange were running around and panicking.

Entering the upwards sloping tunnel, Evan savoured the cool air in the dark passage, it was likely the last he'd encounter for a while.

XXXXX

His helmet long-since removed, Evan snorted in annoyance. This planet was so damnably hot and unventilated. Though, walking beside a lake of lava probably _would_ result in extreme temperatures, but still.

After exiting the stock-exchange, with Dave being all upbeat about the amount of boondollars they had amassed, proudly bragging that with only a single borrowed boon-buck, he had gathered such a fortune. Though, naturally, far more flowery and incomprehensible language was used. Evan still hadn't gotten used to Dave's speaking and mannerisms. Half the time, it was even worse than Chester's irrelevant technobabble.

They had then proceeded to walk across several separate metal structures, and at one point, had to fly across a lava pool, Evan with god-tier powers, while Dave simply sat on one of his turntables. After that, they had arrived on level, rocky ground, and had promptly set off in a seemingly random direction, with Dave frequently consulting Terezi on direction.

Though, judging by the frequent chortling coming from his companion, Evan suspected more than simple professional direction giving was at work. He had nothing against fun, but there was certainly a time and place for it, and it certainly wasn't then and there.

After what felt like hours of walking across an arid and unchanging wasteland, they suddenly began to notice elevated mountains in the distance, along with massive sprawls of industrial constructs. Yet more walking later, they arrived at the foot of the mountains.

At Terezi's specific insistence, they went to a certain gap between two mountains, and followed it until it began to lower downwards into a canyon. Thus far, no more enemies had attacked them, much to Evan's disappointment. Still, at least Dave was suitably entertaining, continuously talking and cracking jokes. Evan didn't get most of them, but he appreciated the effort. At one point, Dave revealed that he was really big into music production and rap, and asked if Evan wanted to hear some of his "sick beats, that were so sick that they had already infected the whole planet, and there was no hope or chance for a vaccine",

Not understanding a word, Evan had shrugged, and Dave had set his spectagoggles to play what was presumably his own original music. It sounded like what Chris had once described as "techno" or something, and was quite catchy, if completely strange and unique. Evan wasn't quite sure if he liked it, but he gave Dave a thumbs up, and told him he didn't hate it.

Dave had already been around him long enough to realize that was the closest he would likely get to genuine praise from Evan.

So for quite a bit longer, they followed the canyon downwards, the only noise echoing off it's steep walls being funky raps and computer generated noises. Eventually, they reached a lava pool that had formed at the bottom of the canyon, leaving only small pieces of traversable land on either side of the canyon.

Thus, there they were, walking down the left side of the canyon, being practically roasted by the heat. Even Dave's chipper demeanour had taken a hit at this point, and he too was grumbling about the heat.

Squinting into the distance, Evan thought he could make out the beginnings of the canyon's end, where the ground began to rise up again. Nudging Dave, he pointed forwards, and his partner leaned forwards, looking intently.

After a moment's observation, Dave nodded and gave a thumbs up. Briefly checking the spectagoggles again, Dave motioned forwards, clearly meaning that their destination should be just up ahead.

With that, they moved on.

XXXXX

Mercifully, they soon closed within range of their mysterious destination.

Just up ahead, the canyon ended with a steep rocky wall rising into the sky. Upon first glance, there was little in the horseshoe shaped dead-end to warrant Evan's attention. His main point of notice, was the steep walls surrounding them, and making a mental note of the area's suitability for ambushes...

Perhaps he had misjudged Terezi's helpful intentions...

As he was about to uncaptchalog his weapon and take to the air to locate the obvious enemy army that was clearly preparing to encircle and kill them, Evan was distracted by a comment from Dave.

"hey, you see that up there", he said, pointing upwards

"hmm?" Evan replied, following Dave's gaze up the cliff face.

At first, he saw little remarkable. Just a sheer cliff, rocks, and nothing of note. Then, he saw it. Built out of stone slabs that were identical to the surrounding rock, a small platform was built into the cliff, some three quarters of the way up.

At this distance, he could see little about it, but it looked decently wide and long, and if he was not mistaken, it appeared that there was a carved...entrance of sorts, that likely led into the cliff itself.

Evan frowned, in an expression almost resembling thought. It appeared that perhaps, Terezi might not have been a spy, after all.

Just in case though, he gave the top of the canyon another quick scan. No enemies. Good. For her.

Dave was meanwhile scanning the rock wall before them for a way to get up. Thus far, there was no sign of any hidden stairway, or anything of the sort. This time, it was Evan who interrupted him, by poking him, and grumbling, "Why don't we just fly up"  
Uncaptchaloging a turntable to ride on, Dave nodded, saying "yeah whoever was in-charge of designing pathways for player movement in this game needs to be fired, he did such a shit-tier job that i'd be hard pressed to find someone that could possibly do a worse one, even if all the governments of the world united all their top scientists to resurrect hitler, even he would fail utterly in designing something crueler and more unintuitive than this, the shame of losing the war would pale in comparison to the sheer failure his attempts at designing crappy locations would cause"

Evan stared blankly at him for a few moments, before simply going in the air with god-tier powers, and flying towards the platform. Moments later, he was joined by a turntable riding Dave.

Settling down on the weathered and desolate stone outcrop, Evan noted that it was larger than he'd first estimated, being roughly half the size of a football field. (A glorious and AMERICAN game that he'd...heard about in a high-school movie. Apparently, rank in the school social order was related to one's standing as a...footballer.)

Dave touched down behind him, and paused for a few moments, no doubt consulting Terezi again. Evan merely narrowed his eyes, and entertained himself by glancing around at the much closer canyon edges, and imagining the composition and direction of where an attack would come from. At the moment, since there was only about twenty feet of rock above them before the rim of the canyon, it seemed most likely that Terezi's potential communist allies might drop down on them.

In-front of them, was nearly eighty feet of sheer cliff, with a massive lake of lava dominating the canyon floor, leaving only two narrow strips of land to access their part of the ravine. Obviously, an assault from there was not something to be concerned about.

A comment from Dave ended his mental ramblings.

"well that was strange"

"What" Evan asked, immediately apprehensive and convinced that Terezi was putting her dastardly betrayal into motion.

"this troll guy that just contacted me out of the fukin blue" Dave elaborated, "he's like, the most odd goofball i've ever met, and i've known john for nearly my whole life, so that's saying something,"

Evan rolled his eyes, another "alien". "What did he want" he enquired,

"started bothering me about blood-colors and stuff, like i know that the trolls have all got different blood colours, being the ultimate little girl version of a fairy princess race and all, but still, this guy's just strange" Dave continued,

Approaching the entrance, he added, "well, let's get this done", and entered.

Following him, Evan entered the darkness of the passage, welcoming it's cool embrace. For a few moments they descended a flight of worn stone steps, before emerging in a grandiose and massive spherical chamber. The walls were engraved with golden script that resembled Egyptian squiggle-language, which Chester had mentioned once. In the center of the room, surrounded by towering columns, was a squat pyramid-like structure, with a flat top. Upon it, was a block of stone that had an ornate, yet simple white sword embedded in it.

"that's probably it," Dave muttered, and approached the pyramid. Evan gave the room a quick check for hidden enemies, then, satisfied, relaxed near the entrance. As he idly toyed with the straps of his cloak, his pesterchum began to notify him of a message.

Anxiously hoping for some form of contact from Chester, Evan uncaptchalogued his laptop. To his intense disappointment and surprise, he was greeted with not Chester's chum-handle, but rather a strange and vulgar one.

- **centaursTesticle [cT]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

CT: D - Greetings other human

CT: D - Since the Dave human persists in engaging in tricks and verbal hoofbeast-play,

CT: D - I am turning to you for help in understanding the human social structure

CT: D - Would I be wrong in assuming that rank in human society also functions by hemospectrum placement

EE: Uh...

EE: Who are you

CT: D - oh, my apologies if I have violated social customs by initiating dialogue without a formal introduction That was quite r00d of me

CT: D - My name is Equius,

EE: Well, i guess it's nice to meet you?

EE: Im Evan, Evan Mc Cready.

CT: D - I notice that the Dave Strider human also has a four letter first name is that some manner of human naming traditions

EE: What, no.

EE: humans don't really have those, it's just a coincidence that we have four letter names

CT: D - That makes no sense, how would your society function then, total disorder and chaos would reign

CT: D - Forms of social protocol must be obeyed

EE: ...alright, sure,

EE: So, are you actually an alien,

CT: D - I just told you that I was, you doubt a b100-b100d's word

EE: I guess,

EE: Say, what do you mean by "Blue-Blood", you mean you actually have blue blood,

CT: D - I am struck with the urge to reply in an improper manner

CT: D - It has passed

CT: D - Yes, I do, in fact have b100 b100d

EE: I guess I'll take your word on it for now, seeing as I can't actually disprove any of that,

EE: Say, do you know anyone called, "Terezi", or something like that,

CT: D - Yes, I am familiar with the teal b100d

CT: D - I do not know her well, though

CT: D - Why do you ask

EE: I need to know if she's trustworthy, or if she's allied with anything called the Communist Party

CT: D - ...

CT: D - Again, I know little of her, but since she is an aspiring legislacerator, I can say that she is likely worthy of one's trust

CT: D - Although, she is...involved with the %%ing Serket girl, so perhaps she is not as removed from scheming and plotting as one would think

CT: D - In any case, I would advise treading carefully

CT: D - I doubt she would betray or %% you, but with an associate of the Serket girl, anything is a possibility

EE: hmmm, you've been really helpful, thanks,

CT: D - Quite

CT: D - I wonder though, if you could e%plain aspects of human society to me, in e%change

EE: Sure, shoot

CT: D - I have been told that all humans only have a single b100d-color, is this correct, or merely another of the Dave human's tricks

EE: Well, yeah,

EE: As far as I can tell, all humans bleed red,

CT: D - How is your society separated then, if not through the separation of High-B100ds from the Low-B100ds

EE: Well, in the glorious and perfect nation of America, everyone is equal

EE: Democracy hell yeah!

CT: D - That sounds impossible, there is always some manner of upper classes, and filthy, unwashed, and r00d lower classes,

EE: Well, I suppose that rich folks have it better than poor folks, but I've never even set foot in the U S of A, so I just get all that information from Chris and Chester,

CT: D - Humans rank social standing based on wealth, that seems absurd

CT: D - Everytroll knows that wealth comes from power, and power comes from b100d-color, not the other way around

EE: Yeah, well,

EE: that's just how it works.

EE: Or, at-least, how I'm told it works,

CT: D - Indeed, your society is strange, yet also intriguing in a way,

CT: D - to think that without the STRONG guidance of the hemospectrum, a society can still survive and grow

EE: your society seems pretty cool too, your whole species has different blood colours.

EE: That must make battlefields neat to look at,

CT: D - Do not speak of such things lightly, the b100d art of the Grand Highb100d of old, and his subjugglators is nothing to be made jest of

EE: oh, okay then

CT: D - It is a simple cultural misunderstanding, you are not at fault

CT: D - I am curious, however, the Strider human mentioned being fond of lyrical battles and song, do all humans partake in such hobbies

EE: Not really, most folks just do whatever they want, sports, or music, or drawing, or whatever,

EE: I like exercising, studying fashion, and making badass outfits,

EE: Chris likes video games and petty theft,

EE: Chester's...kinda boring, he doesn't do a whole lot,

CT: D - They are friends of yours

EE: yeah,

EE: Say, what are your hobbies, what kinda stuff takes your fancy

CT: D - Well,

CT: D - I am partial to partaking in the ancient art forms of the slam poets,

CT: D - I find archery a most noble and high-b100ded profession,

CT: D - I also take enjoyment from the collection and appreciation of artwork featuring muscular and STRONG hoofbeasts, resplendent and majestic in their natural habitat

CT: D - And I also exercise my technical skill by assembling robots, and wrestling them,

EE: You build and wrestle robots, like, metal ones,

CT: D - Yes

EE: That's the most awesome thing I've ever heard,

EE: Why didn't I think of that,

CT: D - Should you wish to try and assemble your own robots, I would wish you good fortune, and a reminder to build them from STRONG materials, as weak metal tends to break after a few sparring sessions,

EE: thanks,

CT: D - Hmmm

CT: D - It appears that my moirail is distraught, I will have to leave now,

EE: Sure, it's been pretty nice talking to you,

CT: D - Likewise, good bye for now,

EE: seeya

- **centaursTesticle [cT]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Evan lowered his laptop, captchaloguing it in the process.

For several brief moments, he sat in thought. The Equius fellow seemed rather nice, but he was another of those "aliens", and Evan still didn't believe their claims for even a second. He had at first assumed that Equius was in cahoots with Terezi, but to have him say not to trust her, seemed to put doubt on that assumption.

On top of that, Evan genuinely liked the troll? human?, whatever he was, and didn't really want to think ill of him. Seeing as he was, once again, limited in ability to act against any of the "trolls", Evan decided that he would simply keep to his current course, and deal with any problems as they arose.

Rising to his feet, he saw Dave approach, holding a broken white sword.

"You got the legendary weapon?" he asked,

"legendary piece of shit is more like it," Dave muttered, "caledscratch is better than this stupid thing in every possible way, it's like comparing the shit-tierest car of the nineteen-twenties, to the awesomest roadster of today. no comparison"

"So what are you gonna do with it" Evan asked, appraising the broken blade, and finding it kinda lacking,

"i dunno, might just captchalog it and hang on to it, slim possibility that it may get used for something in the future", came the shrugging reply,

"Right, so now what" Evan sighed, glancing at the entrance,

Dave began walking towards it, and Evan followed. As they stepped on the staircase, he answered, "tz seems to think i'm gonna pass out or something in a few minutes, and a whole ton of monsters are gonna attack, so I guess we can just get somewhere safe-ish and defend,"

Evan's eyes narrowed, could this be the Terezi girl's surprise attack, intended to get them killed? Not on his watch.

Just then, they exited the stairs, and stood outside on the platform.

Uncaptchaloging a small necklace of some kind, Dave held it outwards, muttering, "may as well get Davesprite to help, super-powered flying berserker or not, you could probably use some help,"

As Evan was about to ask what the hell he was doing, a brief flash of orange passed over the platform, and when his vision cleared moments later, a strange being floated beside Dave.

It was some strange sprite-like creature, ethereal and orange and floating, but the strangest part about it, was it's uncanny resemblance to Dave.

Apart from the wings it had, and it's strange wispy tail, it looked very much like Evan's companion.

Glancing around, the creature nodded at Dave, who nodded in reply. It then turned it's attention to him, and after a few moments of confusion, it slowly turned to Dave and asked, "who's this"

Dave gestured at Evan, and said, "long story, he's friendly (i think), and i'm about to pass out in a few moments as the place is gonna get swarmed with enemies, so if you guys could skip all the introductions and shit, and just guard me, that'd be nice."

Dave opened his mouth to say more, but then simply collapsed and began to lightly snore.

The strange sprite creature and Evan watched Dave's snoring body for a few moments in awkward silence, before it turned to him, extended it's hand, and said, "sup"

Evan shook it's hand, replying with, "uh, hello"

The handshake ended in awkward silence. After a few more moments of quiet, Evan asked, "so...what are you, exactly"

The sprite shrugged, "i was dave from another timeline, john up and got himself killed, and before we even knew it, our session failed and most people died. i timetraveled into this session to fix things, and eventually ended up prototyping myself in this dave's sprite. now i guess this session is like, automatically twice as awesome as it used to be, due to the inverse square law of doubling of daves"

Turning to him, it added, "by the way, name's davesprite."

Evan nodded respectfully, "mine's Evan," he said

Glancing back at the canyon before them, Davesprite was quiet for a moment, before asking, "so what's your deal, i don't recall you ever being a part of our session,"

"Not entirely sure, to be honest," Evan answered, "We had killed the Black King in our session, then I just kinda ended up here, pretty sure my friends wound up somewhere around here too,"

Davesprite nodded, and they both fell quiet again.

The silence was then suddenly broken by roars, and thunderous footsteps.

Immediately, Evan uncaptchalogued his chainsword, while Davesprite pulled a katana-like sword out of...somewhere.

Evan scanned the horizon methodically, looking for enemies. Remembering his earlier musings, he kept his focus on the cliff above them, certain the swarms of enemies would come from there.

When Davesprite coughed, and nudged him with a ghostly elbow, Evan nearly bisected the sprite from sheer surprise and reflex. Managing to (somewhat) keep his aggression under wraps, he carefully turned around, and followed the sprite's gaze downward, into the canyon.

Below them, standing in the lava without a care in the world, were Giclopses.

A lot of them.

So many, in fact, that Evan had difficulty even counting them. Still, he figured there were at least thirty, and no more than a hundred.

Slowly revving his sword, while quickly checking around them to ensure there were no other enemy forces, Evan smiled. This was much closer to being a fair fight.

As the towering giants below advanced, Evan turned to Davesprite. With an imperceptible nod, the two took to the air, and landed before the towering creatures.

Just before Evan charged, and lost himself in the heat of battle, the last thing he heard was a "caw caw, motherfuckers," from Davesprite...


	31. Act II: Chapter 6

_**A/N: Hey folks, I have a new chapter for you all!**_

 _ **To be brief, Spyzee has finally made a Deviant Art account where he posts story related artwork (namely some new talksprites of our favourite crazy trio), and he'd really appreciate it if you guys checked it out. Just search for Spytato on the site.**_

 _ **Anyway, I own nothing save the OC's, and I hope you enjoy.**_

Upon a Land of Frost and Frogs, two children were making their way up a snowy hillside, heading towards the white tower that sat upon it.

Chester was inwardly grumbling as he trudged slowly through the knee-deep snow. He was pretty sure he had some down his boots, and that was certainly going to be unpleasant later on. It was also pretty bloody cold. Even through the fairly thick coat that he'd put on, he was still kinda shivering. How the Jade girl in-front of him was able to actually keep a decent speed in the snow, and seem to not mind the cold, despite the fact that she wasn't wearing anything heavier than a long-sleeved shirt, was mind-boggling.

Still, she moved forwards at a decent pace, forcing a stumbling Chester to keep up.

To him, the worst part was that the hill wasn't even that big or that steep. If the bloody snow wasn't there, he'd have been up the hill in under a minute. Now though...

After what felt like hours of slowly shuffling forwards, they had finally made it to a relatively packed down area around the foot of the tower.

Glancing upwards, Chester paused at the sheer size of the bloody thing. It's base was roughly rectangular in shape, and stretched upwards for approximately thirty stories (give or take a few, thanks again, super-brain). Then, the wide-based rectangle gave way to a large glass structure of some sort, that surrounded a wide column that went upwards for another thirty stories or so. Then, the tower was capped with a large sphere, that seemed to be big enough to fit about ten or fifteen stories inside. All in all, the entire structure was about on-par with the sizes of many of Earth's largest skyscrapers.

His new god-tier powers estimating the (very, very high) square footage of the building's internal dimensions, Chester wondered as-to just how this girl had gotten to live in such a place.

' _It's clearly an apartment complex. She's just a tenant. Has to be.'_ he internally monologued, ' _There's no possible way her family was rich enough to build or buy something bigger than most skyscrapers_ '

He was interrupted from his musings, when Jade walked partially around it's base, Cheerily called out, "over here!", and motioned for him to follow.

Following her around the wide base of the tower, Chester arrived at a towering sealed door, that was about six-ish meters tall. At it's base, Jade was fumbling with a keypad that was built into the wall.

After several more moments of shivering outside, the door finally opened inwards with a hydraulic hiss. Jade quickly waved at him to get inside, and not needing to be asked twice, he gladly rushed in. She followed, and entered a brief string of numbers on another keypad. The door ponderously swung outwards, locking into place with a mechanical groan.

The "mud-room", or whatever the tower's lobby was called was quite dimly lit, Chester noted. It had fairly high ceilings, with plain, grey, unadorned walls leading into the gloom of the tower.

As he was staring around, somewhat disappointed as the interior didn't exactly match the grandiose wealth that the exterior emanated, Chester noticed that it was actually warm inside, and he could actually feel warmth returning to his hands.

Despite his status as a Canadian, Chester was never quite able to develop the sheer immunity to cold weather that his countrymen seemed to have, nonchalantly strutting about in shorts, oblivious to the metre-high snowbanks and -20 degree temperatures around them.

Bursting his bubble of analytical thought, Jade asked, "hey, are you alright?" while waving at him, "you seem kinda spaced out"

Chester snapped back to attention, nodding quickly and muttering, "Yeah. Sure I'm fine."

"great!" Jade enthusiastically replied, "so, if you wanna get out of the dark and chilly foyer, and head in already, we can get started on prototyping all the things" Turning and walking down the hall, she waved for him to follow her, "come on,"

Re-captchaloguing his coat, Chester matched her pace, and they walked down the dim hall together. Trying to break the somewhat awkward silence that had filled the air, he asked something that had been bothering him ever since he laid eyes on the tower, "So. What is this place? Is it just an apartment building your folks lived in? Or what?"

"actually, no" she said, "my grandpa built this place way back when,"

Chester stared, flabbergasted, "How?" he asked incredulously,

"well, he was an archeologist and traveller, and he accumulated many expensive and exotic items back in the day." Jade explained as they walked, "apparently, they were so expensive, that he could afford to buy a whole island, and build this place on it" she finished, gesturing at the walls,

Chester walked silently for a few dozen paces, trying to process what he'd just heard. Finally, he said, admiringly, "Your grandpa sounds like an incredible person."

"yeah," Jade wistfully replied, "he was,"

Chester immediately caught the depressed note in her tone and quickly added, "I take it he...err...passed away?"

Jade nodded, no doubt upset at the recurring memories, and answered, "yes. many years ago, back when i was really little. through a crazy series of events bec then ended up raising me,"

Not really sure how to reply, Chester awkwardly muttered, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"it's alright, really" Jade murmured, "it was...a long time ago, i've...moved on, it's just still kinda painful to talk about,"

A few more moments were spent walking, before the hall finally opened into a circular room. The room was, by no means better lit, but quite large compared to the cramped hallway. Two couches dominated the center of the room, both placed flanking a large fire-place, which was clad in really strange colours that greatly reminded Chester of the small chess-aliens and their gold and purple colour schemes. Based on the dim lighting, and the setup of furniture, as well as the suits of armour that lined the walls, he surmised that this was a parlour or smoking room of some kind.

Upon the couches, sat several odd mannequins, robed in strange apparel. On the coffee table between the two couches, were placed several tea cups and a matching tea-set. Noting that the number of cups and cutlery corresponded to the number of mannequins, Chester slightly shuddered.

He did not even want to think about what was going on here.

Seeing his gaze, Jade smiled and explained, "grandpa keeps them down here for...some reason. i kinda just leave them be, figure he could use the company"

Chester noted the use of present tense in her statement, particularly the part that seemed to imply her grandpa was still alive, and frowned in thought. That was clearly deliberate on her part, but made little sense.

Noticing his confusion, she pointed to a strange mannequin that was standing up, dressed like a safari hunter from the eighteen hundreds, and explained, "that's grandpa there, he usually spent his time down here anyway, so i thought he'd like it here the most,"

Then, turning to the mannequin (or, at least Chester really hoped it _was_ a mannequin...) she said, "hi grandpa, this is chester, he's gonna be visiting for a bit,"

Bewildered, he just stood in shock as she stared at it for a moment, nodded and said "okay, see you later,"

She then grabbed his arm and led him through another doorway and out of the parlour. After he had gotten over his shock and began walking on his own accord, she dropped his arm, and led him into the adjoining room. This one was rather plain, featuring a circular staircase in it's center, along with some better lighting. The only other notable feature was a mammoth, stuffed, worm creature of some kind that stuck out from a crenellation in the wall.

Gaping at... whatever the hell it was, Chester dimly questioned just what in the heck he had gotten himself into.

"What...what was that back there?" he finally questioned, near his wit's end.

"well," she began awkwardly, not really sure how to proceed, "the harley family has a long tradition of... _alternative_ burials for family members..."

Something clicked in his mind.

With dawning horror, he gasped, "Wait. That was your grandpa's...body?"

"yeah, we have a standing tradition of...stuffing family members," she slowly muttered, looking at the floor, "it's not as creepy as it sounds"

"I never said it was creepy!", He quickly declared, his mental processes long since derailed, allowing his mouth to run itself on auto-pilot. Though, to be fair, the Harley family was certainly quite rich. Rich enough to have any...unorthodox practices to be classified as 'eccentric', rather than 'barking mad'. He knew first hand after all, his grandpappy had all manner of strange and annoying habits, that on anyone else would be described as 'possessive' and 'irritating', however, due to his wealth, Chester was grudgingly forced to admit that his grandpa was only just 'a harmless old eccentric'.

So, despite the sheer horror-movieness of such a practice, Chester figured that Jade seemed really nice, and was likely not a serial killer. Besides, if it didn't really hurt or affect anybody, it was mostly alright in his book.

Though, that still didn't change the fact that he was still shivering and kinda creeped the hell out.

"oh, well, thanks for that," she muttered cautiously, likely suspecting him of being wierded out and pretending to be polite "it's not that big a deal, but i know how people get really freaked out about it,"

Having somewhat regained his reasonable processing capabilities, Chester replied, "Well. If it doesn't bother or hurt anyone. I can't really say anything bad about it."

Then, kinda curious, he asked, "Why did you...err...talk to him though? Is that family tradition too?"

She awkwardly shrugged, "...force of habit"

"Fair enough." he added.

Gesturing at the really odd worm statue, he then enquired, "What the heck even is that thing?"

"one of grandpa's hunting trophies, or something like that", Jade dismissively shrugged, before nodding towards the stairs impatiently, and asking "so you wanna get on with it, or what"

"Alright. Alright. I'm walking." Chester placatingly muttered, beginning to follow her up the spiralling stairs. "Just curious is all."

"that's fine," Jade replied, "just try to remember we're kinda running on a schedule here, no telling when jack could show up"

Chester inwardly shivered. Here he was, trying to _take his mind off_ the omnipotent teleporting killing machine as best he could. Thanks, Jade.

The ascent took a few moments before they emerged into another small grey room. To his immense...discomfort, the room was completely plastered with sun-bleached posters of female movie stars in...compromising apparel.

Apart from that, there were yet more suits of armour placed haphazardly around the room, along with several dusty bookshelves and what appeared to be antique globes.

Continuing up the stairs, Jade spared a nod to the room's...questionable posters, and muttered, "those are grandpa's,"

Chester simply shrugged, and followed her upwards growing curious just as to what the next room would hold. Emerging into the next room after her, he glanced around.

This room was also dimly lit and grey. It made up for that, however, by having Egyptian hieroglyphs and script decorate the walls, while several stone sarcophagus's were propped up against the walls. On tables near the edges of the room, bandaged things that Chester really hoped weren't real mummies lay.

Once again ascending the stairs, Jade called down, "just the room of decrepit mummies, all grandpa's stuff, nothing to see there,"

Protesting incoherently, both wanting to stay and study the room, and wanting to run out as fast as possible because mummies were scary, Chester settled for meekly following Jade upwards.

The next room he entered had even more suits of armour and mail strewn about, except this time there were also shields and numerous swords hung on the walls. Several trophy animal heads were mounted beside the shields, seeming to stare at him from their lofty perches.

"come on, just a bunch of knights and stuff, nothing to see," Jade disinterestedly waved him on,

"How many of these rooms are even left?" Chester asked, beginning to scale the steps behind her, "This tower is massive."

"just one," she called back, "there's a transporter in the next room,"

Muttering in annoyance, she added, "a _working_ one, at least"

"Transporter?" he asked, sincerely doubting she meant an elevator,

"teleporter, whatever you want to call it," she answered, clearly preoccupied with other thoughts,

' _Teleporter?_ ', he inwardly wondered, ' _how the hell would that work?_ '

He soon found out, as when he climbed into the next room, the first thing that greeted him was a very familiar silver disk that lay on the ground. As Jade impatiently grabbed his arm and roughly dragged him to it, muttering stuff he didn't pay attention to, his primary thought was, ' _That's the same exact damn thing that didn't work for me on my planet!_ '

As she thrust him onto the platform, a white flash filled his gaze, as a familiar tugging sensation ran across his body. Within a heartbeat, it all abruptly stopped, and he was suddenly ejected from the platform and sent sprawling onto a white floor.

Picking himself up, he dusted off his God-tier clothes, and looked around.

The most striking feature of his new surroundings was that the walls and ceiling were made of glass and things were very bright as a result. ' _Likely inside the glass structure then._ ', he mentally remarked.

All around him, row upon row of tables stood, each acting as a ...planter? Whatever those things that held dirt and plants were. Near one end of the room, large shelving units held fertilizers, seed packets, tools, and all manner of gardening supplies. Beside them, hung several aprons and sets of gloves.

'Clearly a greenhouse of some kind.' Chester noted, marvelling at how the teleporter must have sent him up to the middle of the tower.

His inspection was interrupted when the teleporter pad flared white again, and Jade materialized upon it, casually walking off. Gesturing at the surrounding room, she exclaimed, "and this is the garden! it's kinda 'my part' of the house," walking over to a row of planters and idly inspecting them, she asked, "d'you like gardening, chester?"

Staring out the window, he replied, "Can't say that I especially care for it. I don't particularly enjoy dirty or outdoorsy things."

"that's not very healthy," Jade remarked,

"No. It really isn't. But I don't mind."

Turning to the teleporter pad, he then asked incredulously, "How do you even have that thing there? Did the game put it there?"

Jade eyed him in confusion, "ummm...it's always been there," she slowly replied, seeming rather confused,

"What do you mean it's always been there?" Chester exclaimed, "How did you guys get one of those things?"

"...we bought it" Jade answered, "you know, from crocker corp"

"What?" Chester asked, dumbfounded, "I can say for a fact that nothing of the sort exists on Earth."

Jade frowned thoughtfully, "well...maybe our two sessions had different technological progression," she hypothesized

"Maybe. I certainly know that Crocker Corp was behind some really advanced and cutting edge stuff. Portable microwaves and such being chief among them. But I definitely doubt I'd have missed the media storm that would have erupted over the world's first teleporter." Chester agreed,

"if the portable heating units were the most advanced things your version of the company put out" Jade said, "then you've only seen the tip of the iceberg, to put things in perspective, one of our 'experimental new crocker corp products' was a headband that let you browse the internet with your mind," she finished, gesturing for emphasis

"How would that even work?" Chester wondered, "Seriously. How is that even remotely scientifically possible?"

Jade shrugged, "i don't know, half of what crocker corp puts out doesn't really seem to be remotely understandable. it works pretty well though, and most people don't especially care,"

"That seems like a rather stupid reaction to strange tech." he commented, "To simply shrug and not bother to study it."

Motioning him to follow her out of the garden, Jade replied, "well, i just said that most folks don't know anything about how the stuff works, i've actually taken to disassembling and studying their products,"

Following her through an adjacent door and into a white, well lit hallway, Chester asked, "And...? What did you find out?"

"not much," came her reply "the only really strange thing about some of their products is that there are a few odd parts that i don't recognize at all."

"You mean that the parts are really complex or something?" he asked, trying to clarify.

"not even that, i can't even tell what they are supposed to do, they are way more complicated and advanced than anything else i've ever seen," Jade explained,

"That is really strange." Chester commented, adding "Actually. That teleporter in the other room. Looks identical to the ones on my planet back in our session."

Jade frowned, "well considering that Sburb was somehow commercially distributed, i guess it wouldn't be too big of a stretch to think that other instances of it's technology might have slipped into our world,"

"Yeah. That makes sense." Chester sighed, slowly walking beside her.

He then followed her through an open door, and into another room where she promptly stopped and cheerfully declared, "and this is my room!"

Casting an appraising eye over the medium sized room, Chester mused how odd it was that seemingly everyone had all their interests and hobbies on prominent display inside their rooms, granting anyone insight into their lives with but a glance. Personally, he kept most of his stuff in organized drawers and containers, but he was weird like that.

Anyways, Jade's room was quite open with it's floorspace, with white walls, a small window, and decent lighting. Against one wall, was a fairly large fourposter bed, while opposite it sat some manner of workbench, with tools haphazardly strewn across it. The floor was littered with some kind of colourful plushies, while nostalgic television show posters covered the walls. To the left of the bed, was a weapon rack with several rifles mounted on it. Finally, flower pots were both sat on tables, and hung from the ceiling.

Chester nodded, "It's pretty nice."

Jade beamed, "thanks!"

Quickly going around the room, she captchalogued some stuff that would probably be used in prototyping equipment, and turned back to the door.

"i guess that's probably all i'll need here, we can carry on" she said, and walked back into the hall, Chester following behind.

"Where do you have your prototyping equipment set up?" Chester enquired, thus far, he hadn't actually seen any of the strange Sburb-spawned devices.

Walking back into the large greenhouse, Jade walked between the rows of plants and squatted beside the grey teleporter disk in the room's center, pressing several buttons on it's base. Glancing at Chester, and waving for him to go first, she said "just through here, up in the old lab, there's plenty of room up there,"

Chester cautiously approached the teleporter. "So...I just walk onto it?" he hesitantly asked,

"yep, now come on, we don't have all day," Jade encouragingly replied,

Closing his eyes, he walked forward several paces and stepped onto the metal disk. A familiar tugging feeling came, and then moments later passed.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a very dimly lit room. It was quite large and cavernous, with a somewhat spherical curve in the ceiling. All around were various computers and workbenches, along with more mummies, suits of armour, and antique pieces of furniture. Everything up here seemed old and worn though, clearly having been left abandoned for quite some time. Further away in the gloom, the silhouettes of the Cruxtruder, Totem Lathe, Alchemeter, and other Sburb constructs could be seen.

He was so caught up in thinking about just how cool this old lab was, and about how it's abandonment was a total travesty, that he totally forgot that he was still standing on the transporter...

At the exact moment he realized that he should probably move, a white flash illuminated the room, something slammed into him, and he fell to the ground.

"what the hell" Jade squawked in confusion, sprawled on the ground beside him,

"Sorry!" he immediately and automatically called out, clumsily trying to get up,

"it's fine, but what did you even do," Jade demanded, shakily staggering to her feet,

"I guess I was lolly-gagging on the teleporter." he admitted,

"why would you even do that, that's just obviously a really dumb thing to do" she muttered,

"Well. I don't know. I was just staring at this incredible laboratory you have here." he protested, "It's actually really impressive. Why's it even abandoned?"

Walking over to the Alchemeter, Jade answered "well, ever since grandpa...passed, i found it a little too big and awkward to reach for my needs, so i took whatever i needed, and set up a smaller workspace downstairs in my room." Glancing at the control panel for the machine, she asked, "so, now what"

Walking up to it, Chester scoured his memories for just what exactly he did to prototype his stuff. It had only happened about twenty-four hours ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago, that he naively began his first blunders in Sburb. So much had happened since then. Triumphs, failures, deaths, mysteries.

Jade impatiently coughed, "well" she demanded

"Err..." He began, buying himself time to think. Fortunately, his super-brain decided to fill in some of the blanks for him. "The basic process begins with obtaining the objects you wish to combine." Jade nodded, "You read the code on the back of their captchalog cards." She opened her fetch-modus, obviously going through it and doing just that, "You enter it into the Punch-Design-X machine. Then you use it to 'punch' a card." As she went over to the piano-shaped device he quickly added, "At some point you should also get a surplus of cruxite dowels. They will be needed soon." Tinkering with the Design-X, she nodded.

"Then. After obtaining the punched card. Take both it and the totem to the totem lathe. After inserting the card and securing the totem. It will be carved by the device. After that. Take it to the Alchemeter. The device will scan the totem and create the corresponding item."

Jade retrieved a card from the Deign-X, and walked over to the Cruxtruder to grab some totems. "Got all that?" Chester asked, worried that he might have gone too fast.

"yep, thanks for that" came the cheery reply,

"...Are you sure?" He slowly called,

"mhm" She mumbled, trying to open the device's circular hatch.

"Do you need any help with that?" Chester asked, walking over,

"nope!" she called over her shoulder,

"Seriously. Let me." He asked, standing beside her

"no thanks," she repeated, her tone growing strained with annoyance, both at him and at the device,

After watching her tug at the crank for a few more moments, Chester said, "Here. let me." and grabbed it as well

"stop it!" Jade snapped, swatting at him,

"But you can't do it." Chester protested,

"that's cause you're getting in the way!" She complained, pushing him away,

With a final heave, she turned the crank slightly, causing the hatch on the Cruxtruder to open up, releasing a green dowel.

"There!" She triumphantly declared, hands on her hips.

"I stand corrected." Chester shrugged,

"yeah, just stop trying to micromanage everything!" Jade snapped at him, "i'm not stupid, i know what i'm doing"

"I...realize that." Chester sheepishly muttered, "I guess I'm just used to dealing with idiots that seemingly deliberately misinterpret instructions. Sorry for getting in your way." he apologized,

Jade let out a deep sigh, "im sorry too," she said, shoulders drooping, "im not usually like this, im just really wound up after all the bullying the darn trolls put me through," Leaning on the Cruxtruder, she continued, "i've just had enough of everyone else's shit right now, and...i guess im sorry if im being too hard on you, it's mostly not your fault."

Slowly nodding, Chester's mind froze when he realized something. The internet bullies she called 'trolls', were referred to in a way that implied they were still around. Chester highly doubted that her co-players were the aforementioned bullies. So, this naturally meant yet another situation where he didn't have all of the facts.

"Um... What do you mean by 'trolls'?" he asked, trying not to upset her by dredging up potential bad memories, "Are they just internet bullies or something?"

"oh." she softly murmured, "i guess i forgot to tell you about them, they're aliens." she explained,

Chester's mind came to a screeching train-wreck of a halt. "...Aliens?" he slowly enquired, wondering if he'd misheard.

She nodded, "yep, they apparently created our universe, and now they're being attacked by jack aswell."

"So. You've had contact. With real live aliens?" Chester repeated,

She sighed, "it sounds really nuts, but really though, compared to all the other stuff in this game, aliens is where you draw the line"

"I guess you're right." he conceded, before beginning to pelt her with questions, "So what are they like? How is their culture? How do you communicate with them? Do you know what they look like?"

She raised a hand, "slow down there, chester, i can only listen so fast"

He stopped, "Sorry."

"its okay," she smiled, "anyway, i don't really know very much about them other than there's an angry grey one called karkat that yelled at me over pesterchum a bunch of times in the past and he's a big stupid bully, then there was a brown one called tavros, and he wasn't mean, but apparently he was responsible for my grandpa's death somehow, although it was an accident."

Growing more frustrated, she continued, "i mean, karkat just messaged me out of the blue one day, and started calling me names! only now i've sort-of learned that he's mad at us because we created jack and accidentally he entered their session and messed everything up for them, but that's still no excuse to be a big mean jerk!" she finished ranting and crossed her arms.

After a brief pause, Chester commented, "Since you said that Becquerel prototyped himself. It really makes no sense for Karkat to blame you for it. He does sound like an asshole. You should just try to ignore him as best you can."

"you think i didn't try that" Jade huffed, "i changed my pesterchum name several times, they just keep finding me! and on top of that, it looks like we'll have to work with them to defeat Jack,"

"That dosen't sound pleasant. Still. You can rarely choose your allies and co-workers. We'll just have to grit our teeth and bear with it. It seems." Chester replied, both excited at the prospect of contacting alien life, and kinda angry that anyone would hurt Jade's feelings. Even after only knowing her for the better part of an hour, he could tell that she was a really nice and kind girl, and anyone that would bully her, for any reason, was clearly a terrible person. Or alien. Whatever. Chester was really kinda pissed. It was really unfair.

"yeah, it dosen't seem like we have a choice," Jade dejectedly mused.

Getting up and taking the dowel and punched card to the Alchemeter, Jade called, "i guess i'll get this stuff done, if you want to try and contact your friends or anything like that, you can do that now"

He nodded in acknowledgement, "Sure."

As she walked off into the darkness of the lab, Chester sat against the Cruxtruder, and uncaptchalogued his laptop. While he was browsing pesterchum, he was suddenly struck with a strange thought. How the heck did pesterchum even still work?

Like, it used the internet to function and connect to other computers through a complicated series of cables and servers... But they were in the medium now, Earth was either destroyed or nearly destroyed, and there certainly weren't any functioning servers anywhere nearby. How could anything internet based possibly even function?

Sighing in displeased annoyance, he grumbled under his breath "More Sburb physics defying bullshit."

Come to think of it, his battery still read 100%, regardless of the fact that his computer had been running for the better part of twenty-four hours.

...

Well, at least the convenient Sburb majjyks were actually helpful this time, so he wouldn't complain about them too much.

Seeing no messages from either Evan or Chris, Chester on a whim decided to open the Crocker Corp patented web browser, and see if the internet still functioned in more overt ways.

To his mild surprising, the red and white stylized homepage loaded quickly, and all the assorted ads filled the sidebars. Curious if INVESTCENTRAL still worked, and of the glimpses it could potentially offer of his Earth, Chester opened up the investing app.

While it still sort of worked, everything else about the normal slate grey webpage was completely different...

For a moment, he stared in bewilderment at the now black and red webpage. A banner upon the top of the screen read "LOHAC Stock-Exchange", (whatever the heck that meant) and all the currency exchange information that was traditionally in the upper left of the screen was replaced with a single box that displayed information about something called a "Boonbuck", and how it could be converted into a "Boondollar".

Pausing thoughtfully, Chester felt like he vaguely remembered that term...

Nah, it was probably nothing.

Anyway, the entire right side was still dominated by a general overview of all the major companies and stocks, but everything now had really strange names, and, more importantly, the stock price of absolutely everything was plummeting.

In the thirty seconds he had stared at the screen, several large companies had fallen nearly three percent. Completely excited at the prospect of scooping up massive amounts of shares for practically free, he moved the cursor to the 'buy' button, before he realized that not only did most of his money disappear with the banks back on Earth, but that all these stocks required Boonbucks or dollars to purchase.

Cursing under his breath, he racked his mind trying to figure out what the hell was going on here. Boondollars... where had he heard that before...

Of course! The stupid octopus creatures on his planet!

But that meant that whatever this website was, it was being operated out of the medium, and likely in this session. Hmmm... If only he had a local to explain to him just what this stuff was all about...

Tucking his laptop under his arm, he wandered off in search of Jade.

A few moments later, he came across her by the Alchemeter, surrounded by a pile of stuff. A large red robot...thing was propped up against the wall, surrounded by several majjyk 8 balls, a pair of glowing glasses, and several strange and colourful rifles. What appeared to be a suit of red and yellow power-armour was haphazardly strewn on the ground, while several other colourful articles of clothing lay beside it. Lastly, a really odd...Christmas tree? Leaned against a wall It looked like a mangled, two-dimensional sketch of a real Christmas tree, that was repeatedly crumpled up and put through a shredder.

All in all, apart from the guns and power-armour, it really didn't appear that Jade took any of this prototyping business seriously.

For whatever reason, she wasn't even wearing the power-armour, instead wearing some form of really odd blue dress, with a pastel red coat and sneakers, and a strange pair of colourful earmuffs. This outfit didn't look practical in the slightest.

Though, it looked...alright. Somehow the sheer discord of all the colours, managed to look so disjointed, out of place, and awful, that it looped right back around to looking kinda alright.

Noticing him, Jade turned around and cheerfully asked, "what do you think?"

Awkwardly stuttering for a few moments, Chester replied, "Err... It's alright. But why do you have all this other useless junk lying around?"

She shrugged, "well, dave torrented me a ton of grist, and i did a lot of experimenting,"

Glancing at the power-armour, Chester asked, "How come you aren't using that? It seems way more practical and useful than your...current attire."

Jade glanced at it, and said "it's really clunky and super heavy, there's no way i can easily move in that."

He nodded, "Fair enough."

Returning his thoughts to his computer, he opened it and showed her the site, while asking, "Hey Jade. Do you recognize anything about this site? Also. What exactly is a 'boondollar'?"

Squinting at the screen through her new glowing glasses, she said, "well, LOHAC is dave's planet, so i guess it's a thing that's based on his planet. boonbucks and boondollars are like currency in sburb."

Chester thoughtfully paused, "How would I go about...acquiring any of these currency items?"

Jade shrugged, "well, i think dave's got an app that lets you trade virtual grist and boonbucks, so you should probably talk to him about that,"

Quickly thinking of something, she then added, "oh yeah, his pesterchum tag is turntechGodhead"

Chester smiled appreciatively, "Thanks."

Sitting back down and beginning to browse pesterchum, he asked, "By the way. Are you done here?"

Doing something with her glasses, she absentmindedly replied, "almost, i've got a few more things to do before..."

And then her glasses, sneakers, earmuffs, coat, and probably captchalogued laptop all buzzed with the pesterchum notification sound. Noticing Chester's questioning stare, she quickly explained, "most of my stuff has integrated computers, never know when you'll need a backup,"

That actually sounded really reasonable, "How have I not thought of doing that? That's brilliant." Chester commented, as Jade fumbled to turn off most of the buzzing devices.

After muting or turning off everything but her glasses, Jade sat down and began to have a conversation with someone. Chester simply resumed browsing pesterchum, trying to find this 'Dave' person.

A few moments later, Jade flipped up her glasses, annoyed, "that jerk!"

Chester looked up, "What? Is it the Karkat guy?"

"no," she replied, "it was some other purple troll, that tried to force me to take some stupid weapon or something from him. why won't they all just leave me alone!"

Glancing at him, she asked, "your strife specibus is riflekind too, right"

"...Umm. Yes?" Chester answered, not sure where she was going with this,

"i told him to give it to you instead, so he's probably gonna bother you in a second," she explained, "he's really rude, sorry in advance, i just really didn't want to deal with anymore trolls right now"

Inwardly smiling at the prospect of meeting an alien, Chester nonchalantly replied, "Oh. It's no problem. Misery shared is misery halved right? ...Or something like that..." he awkwardly trailed off,

She beamed, "thanks,"

Just then, his laptop buzzed with the trademark pesterchum notification sound.

 **-caligulasAquarium [CA** **]** began pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

CA: greetins human

CA: the wwitch has scorned my generous gift of a legendary wweapon

CA: howwevver since you havve a similar wweapon specialization i may be convvinced to gift it to you instead

IL: Um.

IL: Hello there. Are you an actual alien?

CA: no i am an ordinary stupid human

CA: of course im not a human you insipidly stupid lowwblooded alien

IL: Hey.

IL: That's uncalled for. This is supposed to be a first-contact meeting.

IL: I have so many questions about your civilization and species.

CA: i really doubt you havve the thinkpan capacity to appreciate our illustrious culture and history

CA: besides youre clearly just tryin to make a fool of me like the rose wwitch

CA: i refuse to fall for your trickery this time

IL: What?

IL: Well. I don't know the 'Rose' person you're referring to.

IL: But I can safely say that I am definitely intelligent enough to appreciate your culture.

IL: look. If you want. This can be a two-way cultural exchange.

CA: im not sure about this

IL: I can start if you want.

CA: vvery wwell human tell me of your species

IL: Well. To be brief. I will simply give a brief overview of humanity.

IL: We're basically hairless monkeys that like competition and killing each other.

IL: Virtually all of human history is riddled with humans banding together into countries defined only by imaginary borders.

IL: They then would wage wars against outsiders for literally any reason imaginable.

IL: Recently. We've developed nuclear weapons that can blow up the planet if used. So most of the fighting's died down.

IL: ...Between the superpowers anyway. Various tiny poor countries are still fighting each other.

IL: Or. They were before the meteors came...

IL: We've also maed a lot of really cool scientific advances. And we've also built a lot of neat stuff.

CA: wwell it seems you wwerent trying to trick me after all

CA: vvery wwell then i wwill tell you of the alternians

CA: wwe trolls are a race of grubs born from the mother grub and tended to by the jade bloods

CA: as a troll matures the extra grub legs fall off and an adult bi-pedal stance is assumed

IL: Hold on. What do you mean by 'Jade Bloods'?

CA: wwhat do you think i mean

CA: jade blooded trolls

IL: That implies other trolls have different blood.

CA: they do

CA: you mean humans dont have different blood colors

IL: Umm... No. They are just all red-blooded.

CA: that is vvery strange

CA: howw do humans decide leadership then if not by rank on the hemospectrum

IL: Well. We've had plenty of different types of governments. Everything from hereditary leadership that runs from progenitor to descendant. To military dictatorships. To Religious ones. To democracies where the public elect their leaders.

CA: that last one sounds stupid givving lowwbloods the ability to choose wwho leads them wwould end in chaos and anarchy and disaster

CA: howw do you keep stupid humans from electing bad leaders

IL: Well. We kinda don't.

IL: We just put in a lot of safeguards so that the temporary elected leader can't mess things up too badly.

IL: Still. It's better than living with the threat of being abducted in the night by secret police or something like in a dictatorship.

CA: abductin and assassinatin enemies of the empire sounds exactly like wwhat her supreme condescension does

CA: and the imperial drones and subjugglators arent exactly secret police but they do cull disobedient trolls

IL: That sounds brutal. How do you guys survive?

CA: by bein abovve all the wworthless landdwwelin lowwbloods

IL: Actually. How does the 'hemospectrum' you mentioned work? Can you elaborate?

CA: wwell the blood colors are ranked wwith the sea dwwellin fushia bloods the empress and her heiress on top

CA: then sea dwwellin vviolet bloods like myself

CA: beloww me are all the wworthless landwwellers

CA: evverything from purple bloods on top of the land dwwellin hierarchy to the rust bloods at the vvery bottom

CA: notable spots on the hemospectrum include the jade bloods wwho care for the mother grub

CA: and the mustard blooded trash that frequently manifest telekinetic based powwers

IL: So. The closer to red. The lower on the hemospectrum?

CA: precisely

CA: higher ups also enjoy increasingly longer lifespans and often greater strength and powwer

IL: That sounds really different. All humans just have red blood.

CA: yet you said you divvide yourselvves anywway

IL: Yeah. Usually the poor are downtrodden.

IL: Nations or specific cultural groups often have various enemies with whom they've quarreled over the centuries. So they just automatically have resentments against people from those other regions.

CA: i take it humans havve great military history then

IL: Oh you have no idea.

IL: Most of our historical eras are simply named by the type of metal we used to build weapons with at the time.

CA: it seems i wwas wwrong about your meager intellect human

CA: though i wwould like to hear of human battles and tactics and wweapons and to regail you with tales of the feats of the great orphaner and the ancient troll threshecutioners

CA: it appears a mustard blooded scoundrel is approachin my moirail and i wwill not stand for this

CA: it seems i dont havve time to grace your human pawws wwith my ultimate wweapon right noww

CA: perhaps wwe wwill pick up this discussion again later human

IL: ...Err. Alright then.

IL: And. Mr. Alien guy.

IL: My name is Chester.

CA: it wwas enlightening to speak wwith you chester i am eridan

CA: eridan ampora

IL: If you're leaving now. Goodbye.

CA: Goodbye then.

 **-caligulasAquarium [CA]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

For a few moments, Chester stared at the screen.

He had just talked to a real live alien.

The Eridan fellow really was kind of an asshole. But honestly, compared to Evan, he was actually rather mild. Besides, Chester was more than happy to ignore all of that, in favour of learning about alien culture.

They seemed so different and so similar at the same time.

' _It seems that even on an alien planet. Violent hegemonic dictatorships will still be found._ ' Chester mused, reclining against the Cruxtruder.

Sitting on-top of the device, Jade flipped up her glasses and asked, "are you done"

"Yep." Chester muttered,

"sorry for making you deal with the mean jerk," she apologized, "i just really didn't want to put up with another one of them,"

"Honestly. It wasn't bad. He was far from the most irritating and obstinate person I've dealt with." Chester mollified, "The fellow actually was quite knowledgeable about alien society. It was an interesting chat."

"well that's good at least," Jade said,

Glancing at all the prototyped stuff, much of which Jade had already captchalogued and stored, Chester asked, "So now what?"

Glancing at the teleporter some distance away, Jade began,

"well..."

 _ **A/N: If the pesterlog's formatting and size is weird, well, it's late and I don't have enough time to fix it. Anyway, I was taken aback by how long this one turned out to be. Lastly, please leave a review. It really makes my day and encourages me to keep writing.**_


	32. Act II: Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hello guys and gals! The new chapter is finally here! yay!**_

 _ **Anyway, apologies for the long wait times. I've suddenly realized that there are a lot of events that still need to be dealt with before we can cover some of the more interesting bits, so the next few chapters will be an incomprehensible mess of different P. , as I try to cover up all the loose ends.**_

 _ **Regardless, thank you all so much for reading and your support, and I hope you enjoy.**_

Upon a land of Frost and Frogs, two children sat in a dark laboratory...

Watching Jade preform yet more operations with the alchemizing equipment, an exasperated Chester asked, "What are you making now? I thought you said we were done?"

Pressing the last sequence of buttons on the Alchemeter, Jade turned around as the device began to scan the inserted totem, and cheerfully responded, "well, i just realized that i had one more thing i nearly forgot to make," gesturing to her glasses, she explained, "the junior-compu-sooth spectagoggles are fine and all, but rose sent me a code for a really neat white cue ball that has all manner of omniscient properties, and i thought that combining it with the goggles would..."

"Create a device that could observe different points in space and time remotely!" Chester interrupted, exclaiming, "That's brilliant! ...Hey. Can I have a pair too?"

Jade frowned, "don't interrupt me," she protested, only _somewhat_ jokingly, and then adding, "but...i'll interpret that last bit as a complement, so you're _somewhat_ off the hook for that..." she smiled,

Just then, the Alchemeter finished, and Jade captchalogued and equipped the new goggles. Testing them out, she absentmindedly handed the written down code for the cue ball to Chester, who began the procedure for creating his own pair. Which would, naturally, be integrated into his helmet lenses. Actually, while he was at it, he may as well try and integrate computers into various parts of his equipment.

As he wandered off to gather cruxite dowels, Jade marvelled at the depths of space through her goggles...

Seemingly driven by her very thoughts, the glasses shifted to show her a gaze of John's current location.

She saw her friend on what was clearly the battlefield, walking in some unknown direction. He had a really adorable outfit, with blue pyjamas and what looked like a big windsock on his head. Whatever he was upto, Jade hoped he would be okay. Her dream-self had thrown herself in front of the falling chunks of Prospit for his sake, so she was immeasurably relieved to see him in decent health. It seemed her sacrifice wasn't in vain after all.

Before checking on her other friends, her thoughts wandered for a moment. The clouds on Skaia had shown her much, even before the game had even begun, yet, for all the timeline loops they had helped her start and finish, they had shown nothing of the boy tinkering with the devices in her attic, or his strange friends. Something as major as mysterious new players arriving in the session out of the blue should have been a major focus of the prophetic dreams, yet, the first she had heard of the new arrivals was when Chester face-planted outside her house.

With a shudder, she wondered if the visions were incomplete. Or deliberately showing her specific details and hiding others. Or perhaps some other factor had led to Chester's arrival, and had thus completely thrown the future off course?

She had started the game with a seemingly supernatural knowledge of what was going to happen and to whom. But now...

Smiling fondly, she remembered the startling statements she had repeatedly made to Rose, absentmindedly mentioning things that she had no possible way of knowing. It was all harmless fun though and they'd had laughs about it afterwards.

Still, she was deeply uncomfortable with the ever-increasing lack of control that she appeared to have...

Sighing deeply, she tried to think of more pleasant things, of new friends in particular. She was honestly kinda fond of the strange boy that wound up in her front yard. He was kinda bumbling and awkward and overbearing, but was also really intelligent and kind and helpful. Besides, against Jack, they would need all the help they could get. 'Even the trolls', she thought in annoyance. After learning of their actual motivations for the harassment, she felt a little more understanding of them. But she still could not forgive all the bullying she'd went through at their hands...

Wait. Did trolls even have hands? Huh.

Anyway, she had just resumed her train of thought when Chester walked back out of the gloom, now wearing his new helmet.

"did it work?" She asked, eyeing the lenses of the strange looking helmet.

"I have not tested it yet." Chester stated, fiddling with the side of the helmet, "But I am confident the prototyping was successful."

"well go on" she prompted,

"And...There!" he exclaimed, the eye-pieces suddenly beginning to glow and ripple with colours.

After a moment or so, she asked, "well, does it work?"

"...I think so?" Chester muttered, "How do you get it to do stuff?"

"im pretty sure it's thought-operated," Jade replied, "i guess you just think about stuff and it shows it to you"

Chester froze, "Really?" He gasped. "How does that even possible?"

She smiled and shrugged, "i have no idea" and added, "pretty convenient though"

Staring off into space, Chester presumably spent a few moments concentrating before he suddenly shot upright. "Eureka! It works!" He triumphantly declared.

Jade raised an eyebrow quizzically.

Sputtering awkwardly, he quietly muttered something about always wanting to say that.

"i invented the goggles though, you just made your own pair copying the original design..." Jade slowly said, taking her time in poking a hole in Chester's imaginary bubble of success.

At that, she saw him visibly deflate.

"Oh yeah..." he muttered quietly,

"pshh, it's fine" she hurriedly said, concerned that she actually hurt his feelings, "we can share the imaginary credit if you want"

Chester shrugged, "I'm joking. I don't actually rank my self worth on something so trivial." really quietly, he then muttered, "I wish..."

"oh," she replied, awkwardly laughing "heh heh..."

Chester nodded, and began to say something, before a thought struck him, and he immediately began to focus and stare off into space again. Preemptively responding to her question, he said, "I just realized that Evan has probably been unsupervised in your session for the better part of an hour.", and left it at that, as if that was all the explanation required,

"...and?" She asked, confused as-to why that would be a bad thing,

Chester flipped up his helmet. Made direct eye contact with her, and in the most serious tone he could muster, said, "I need to make sure he hasn't killed any of your friends."

A flabbergasted Jade was then left speechless as Chester lowered his helmet, and resumed trying to find his ' _friend_ '...

After a few moments of confused terror, in which she was caught in a flurry of internal questions ranging from, ' _is everyone okay?_ ', ' _oh gog what if someone's hurt?_ ', ' _and how on earth could chester have possibly befriended such a seeming lunatic?_ ', Chester sighed in relief.

"Everything's okay." He declared, and Jade felt immeasurably relieved.

"what the hell was all that about then?!" She demanded,

"Well..." Chester began hesitantly, "Evan is...opinionated..."

Narrowing her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips, and made a 'cut to the point' gesture.

"Okay. Okay." he stammered, "He's a total nut. Well. He's really dependable and supportive and nice once you get to know him. But...he was raised by a militant crazy redneck psychopath." making a placating gesture, he continued, "He's completely polarized in his opinions and has embarked on an irrational crusade to stamp out communism. Or...anything that he personally perceives as communism. For some reason."

"are you serious" she asked in disbelief, this guy sounded like an absolute caricature. Chester had to be pulling her leg with this one,

Looking her dead in the eye through his helmet, he replied, "Completely."

Continuing, he said "Evan is definitely real. He's quite not as bad as I make him sound. But to those he erroneously considers his enemies he is very dangerous. Even before Sburb. He's killed people."

"no way, how?" Jade muttered, horrified and transfixed at the sheer insanity of what she was hearing.

"Apparently he lived in the demilitarized zone in North Korea with his dad." Chester explained. Seeing the disbelief on her face, he added, "I didn't believe it either for most of my life. Sburb changed things though. You would never believe how happy I was to have him beside us when we fought the black king. His skills at brutally murdering things were quite useful."

"but everyone's okay though? right?" Jade asked, her concern still not quite placated.

"I guess so. Evan's with some black suited guy in shades and they're on a red planet. They seem co-operative and talkative enough. So I assume everything is pretty good."

Her eyes widened in recognition, "hes with dave!" She exclaimed, before suspiciously muttering "are you sure everything's okay over there?"

Chester simply gestured at her glasses, "Why don't you see for yourself?" he asked,

"oh yeah," Jade murmured sheepishly, raising the goggles to her eyes again, and thinking intently about Dave's planet, and the current whereabouts of her friend.

Slowly, the shifting colors in the depth of the goggles cleared to show an image of a crimson rock-face, with a pair of figures making their way upwards along a narrow ascending outcrop in the cliff-face. Zooming in, she could easily make out the flashy shades and pale hair that marked her friend, which meant that the other person, gas-masked and hooded and suspicious looking, must be Chester's...friend.

Still, everything looked decently under wraps for the time being at least. Both kids were talking or something, and Chester's murderous friend didn't seem particularly violent at the moment, so Jade reluctantly acknowledged that things were alright for now.

"i guess you're right," she admitted, "thankfully everything seems okay,"

Chester got out his laptop and muttered, "That's probably due to good luck more than anything else. I gotta message that idiot and make sure he dosen't do anything stupid. Or Harmful. Or dangerous. You know... Maybe I'll just have him stand still and not touch or look at anything. Just to be on the safe side."

Watching him fiddle with his laptop, Jade really hoped that everything would turn out okay on Dave's planet...

XXXXX

Upon a Land of Heat and Clockwork, two figures made their way up a cliff-face.

As he walked behind Dave, following the narrow, steep and precarious path upwards, Evan's mind was buzzing. The Terezi alien girl continued to command Dave to do strange and pointless tasks. Currently though, even Dave had no idea what they were actually supposed to be doing. Apparently though, Terezi said that it would all become clear once they arrived at their destination.

Said destination, was apparently on-top of a towering cliff-face. ' _Because of course it is_ ' Evan mentally grumbled, resenting the obnoxiously steep path, and the eternally sweltering temperatures on this planet.

Ahead of him, Dave stopped suddenly, boots crunching on dirt, prompting Evan to nearly walk into him by accident. Annoyed, he called ahead, "What's going on, why are we stopping"

Uncaptchaloging a turntable, Dave replied, "i just realized, why are we even manually walking up this shit-tier excuse of a mountain, we can just up and fly, can't we"

Evan inwardly face-palmed in shame. Yes. He was a god-tier now. He could FLY.

It really was quite amazing just how long it was taking for that fact to truly sink in.

As Dave hopped onto the circular device and began to ascend upwards, Evan glared upwards and willed himself to fly.

Despite his burning willpower, the process took far longer than intended, but eventually, an embarrassed, annoyed, and agitated Evan was rapidly ascending the cliff.

Finally reaching the damnable top, he settled down beside the already arrived Dave, who'd recaptchalogued his turntable, and was surveying the top of the dusty, reddish cliff.

Fortunately (For him) Dave chose not to comment on Evan's...flight complications.

Evan had meanwhile, passed his gaze across the flat lip of the cliff. Directly before them, was the unmistakable shape of a quest bed. Built of dusty red stone, and emblazoned with the same strange gear symbol that Evan had noticed in other places on the planet, the bed was otherwise identical to the other three that he'd seen.

There was just one snag... This one was currently occupied.

Serenely asleep, a green suited individual with very familiar glasses napped on the stone slab. His face and hair were a dead-ringer for Dave's own. If the other boy wasn't standing beside him at that exact moment, Evan would have shouted at 'Dave' to stop lying around while they still had a job to do.

Dave himself, was significantly less shocked at this doppelganger, his face betraying no surprise.

Turning to him, Evan demanded, "What the hell is this? What's going on here"

"...that's another handsome time-travelling dave...apparently", Dave slowly replied, "since i can't actually remember being here before, i guess he must be from the future... or some doomed timeline, ...or he really is from the past, and i've just forgotten coming all the way here and having a nap..."

Shrugging, he muttered, "this time-travel bullshit is really complicated,"

Gesturing towards the quest slab, Evan asked, "What's he doing on that"

"sleeping, i think" Dave muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

Evan suppressed an urge to throttle Dave right then and there. Just barely, he managed to refrain from doing that.

Reaching for his glasses, Dave added, "for real though, im gonna find out,"

As Dave consulted Terezi about just what the hell was going on there, Evan approached the slab, and sat on it's corner. Suddenly, a brilliant idea crossed his mind...

He could...convince Dave to get him in contact with the Terezi alien...girl...whatever, and then he could personally interrogate her.

It was utterly brilliant.

As he stood up to put his plan into action, his laptop suddenly buzzed with a pesterchum notification.

Sitting back down and opening his laptop, Evan really hoped this wasn't another strange troll person. To his pleasant surprise, the person bothering him was none other than Chester.

For a brief moment, Evan felt a surge of relief that Chester was okay after all. Moments after, he immediately resolved to berate his friend for his lateness in arriving and contacting him. After all, if chester was alive and healthy enough to contact him, he was healthy enough to receive Evan's scathing remarks.

Oh, and he'd also need to co-ordinate a _plan_ with the nerd, and figure out where they were and how they got here.

But that had second-place priority.

- **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]-**

IL: Evan.

IL: What are you doing?

EE: Chester,

EE: You certainly took your sweet time getting here,

IL: ...Err...

IL: I don't follow. What?

EE: I've been here for...im not sure exactly, but it was a long time,

EE: And I haven't seen hide nor hair of you

EE: Your pesterchum tag wasn't even in the database a while ago

IL: That can't be.

IL: I arrived here just recently.

EE: Yeah, well, Chris and I both haven't seen your tag for a while

IL: Hmmm... That's strange.

IL: ...HEY!

IL: You're trying to distract me from my initial line of questioning.

IL: Where are we?

IL: Most importantly. Where are you?

EE: I guess we're in another session of sburb or something,

EE: Im traveling with some fella named Dave, he's pretty cool

IL: You haven't murdered him yet? I'm pleasantly surprised.

EE: I've been...tempted to

EE: He's just lucky I have excellent self-control

IL: I think my bullshit detector just exploded from the sheer level of blatant factual inaccuracy in that statement.

EE: Shut up

IL: Ah. Yet more of your witty banter. How I've missed it.

IL: Anyway. Do you know if Chris is here?

EE: He contacted me a while ago, he's on some planet with some strumpet named Rose,

EE: He's probably already told her all of our secrets, the little snitch,

IL: All of our secrets. Like what?

EE: …

EE: You know, in this case it's more the principle of the matter,

IL: Of course. Never know when communist spies could be listening and all that.

EE: Exactly!

IL: …

IL: Regardless. What have you learned so far?

EE: Well, there's some schmuck called Jack running around causing problems, and there are some fake aliens contacting people every now and again

EE: Dave's following the orders of one of them...i may have to terminate him if she proves communist,

IL: ...Please don't do that.

EE: ...very well,

IL: Anyway. I am on a snowy planet with a girl named Jade.

IL: For the time being I guess we're stuck here. So I suppose we can just help these kids out. And figure out where to go from there.

EE: I have no complaints,

EE: Although,

EE: I will still interrogate the Terezi girl though, she's hiding something...

IL: That's preposterous. What could they possibly hope to gain from deceiving us?

EE: Well, they're pretending to be aliens, for starters

IL: ...I think the trolls might _actually be_ aliens.

EE: That's preposterous, aliens don't exist

EE: She's a communist spy and IM GOING TO PROVE IT.

\- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **InquisitoralLogician [IL]** -

With that, he closed his messenger application, and stood up sharply. Dave had seemingly finished, so Evan approached and demanded, "What's going on here"

Visibly shaken, his face paler than usual, Dave muttered with fake enthusiasm, "apparently way back when i made a choice to learn about the god-tiers from her..." he paused, taking shallow breaths, "...this is what she had in mind,"

Evan snorted, oblivious to Dave's minute loss of composure and, waving his hand dismissively said,

"If you wanted to know about god-tier stuff, why didn't you ask, I know all about the god-tier stuff," Turning towards the cliff edge he proclaimed, "Heck, I've even sent my whole team through the process personally...well, Chester's death was his own fault, but still, i hauled his ass to the slab..."

Having regained his composure, Dave interrupted, "no, listen man" gesturing towards the sleeping body, he continued, "she brought that poor handsome dave here, so i could _kill_ him..." Casting his gaze to the ground, he dejectedly muttered, "like in one of johns shitty movies, where im nic cage, here to defeat my evil doppelganger from the future and save the day... but this guy, he's just from some doomed timeline, he never agreed to any of this shit, he's probably just doin what he's told, just like me," Dave finished, his halfhearted attempt at brushing the act off, the joke failing to even get off the ground.

Evan glanced at the body, "She wants you to kill him" he asked, finally noticing the grim tone the conversation had taken,

Uncaptchaloging his sword, it's white edges gleaming dully in the dim light, Dave muttered, "i guess so"

"Why him though," Evan questioned, "i thought _you_ were supposed to go god-tier, not this schmuck"

Dave paused at the edge of the stone slab, the sword trembling slightly in his hand.

"well, i guess she says he's a doomed timeline dave, and he's gonna die anyway... and this is her way of directly getting in my face with the death that a god-tier ascension demands or some such,"

Evan thoughtfully frowned, "If he's already guaranteed to die, why not finish him off yourself, make it clean and make it quick" he suggested,

Involuntarily shuddering, Dave muttered, "i...i don't know if i can, man"

"Of course you can" Evan protested, "It literally takes a single sword thrust, a four year old can do it"

Then, noticing something Dave had mentioned, Evan asked, "Say, what is a 'doomed timeline', i've not heard of that before,"

Glancing up at him, Dave paused for a few moments, seemingly confused at the question, then after a pause he replied, "well, a doomed timeline is any timeline that fails to sucessfully create a new universe. there's only one timeline out of countless others that can actually succeed, and it is thus called the alpha timeline, very creative, i know."

Happy for the distraction, he continued, "most of the daves i bother for help come from doomed or offshoot timelines, so they don't really have anything better to do."

Speaking of Daves... he glanced back at the body sleeping on the slab, and quietly said, "i don't think i can do it man, don't think i can go ahead and make a dave-kebab, doomed or not, this guy deserves better than to die for some shitty example"

Evan shrugged, not especially emotionally invested in the strange other Dave, "I can stab him if you want," he offered, "Wouldn't be the first time..."

Dave paled, "what...actually, never mind, not gonna touch that with a ten foot pole," he hurriedly said, before shaking his head, and declaring, "and about your _generous_ offer umm...no _thanks_... i guess, i mean, i think we should just leave him be,"

Captchaloguing his sword, he turned away from the slab, adding, "who knows, maybe before his timeline fully collapses and he fades away he can go on one last heroic journey or something, do something awesome and worthwhile with his remaining life..."

Evan nodded, "Alright, your call" he muttered,

As they turned away from the slab, and walked back to the cliff edge, gazing down the ramp leading downwards, Evan awkwardly muttered, "...Uh...Are you alright and stuff, you seem distressed,"

Dave paused, then after a few moments shook his head, "nah," he muttered, "i think i'm good now," Gesturing downwards, he began descending down the sloping stairway cut into the rock. Evan followed him down a good portion of the way, before suddenly asking,

"Hey, do you have the terezi girls pesterchum tag, i need to interrogate her,"

Dave paused, and after pondering on it for a moment, said "sure, i guess...go easy on her though, she's not actually a communist...anyway, her tag's 'gallowsCallibrator'"

Evan nodded his thanks, and while internally doubting the validity of Dave's defence of her, decided to compromise and _perhaps_ , give her the benefit of the doubt.

For the first time since he made it, he decided to use the built in computer in his gasmask. Making sure to set the lens-screens to 'semi-transparent', he brought up pesterchum while continuing his descent.

Most people would think that walking down a steep and narrow path, while messing about with a computer, would be a dangerous thing to do. Evan however, fancied himself to be a great multi-tasker, and leisurely strolled down the ramp.

Searching for the Terezi girl's username, he quickly found it, and selected the 'pester' option. It was time for some bloody answers.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **gallowsCallibrator** **[gC]** -

EE: Alright you damn manipulative communist spy,

EE: I'm on to you, so you're gonna give me some bloody answers,

EE: Or else...

gC: H1 TH3R3

gC: W4S TH4T SUPPOS3D TO B3 4 THR34T?

EE: You're not intimidated

EE: I can be more descriptive...

gC: NOP3!

gC: YOU F41L

gC: :]

gC: TRY 4G41N

EE: Alrighty then,

EE: When I find you, im going to rip off your arms and beat you to death with them

EE: Better?

gC: K1ND OF

gC: 1V3 FOUND TH4T FORC3D 1SOL4T1ON

gC: 4ND OPPR3SS1V3 1MPR1SONM3NT

gC: T3NDS TO BR34K CR1M1N4LS F4ST3R

EE: …

EE: I don't know, you cant really beat hands-on torture

gC: 1T H4S 1TS P3RKS

gC: BUT TH3R3S SOM3TH1NG TO B3 S41D 4BOUT DR1V1NG 4 GU1LTY TROLL TO T34RS

gC: 4ND D3L1C1OUS

gC: GU1LTY CONF3SS1ONS

gC: W1THOUT L4Y1NG 4 H4ND ON TH3M

EE: I can see where you're coming from, it just takes too long to properly break someone,

EE: Besides, I never really had the proper facilities for that kinda stuff,

gC: TH4TS 4 SH4M3

gC: B4CK 1N MY FL4RP1NG D4YS

gC: 1 D1DNT R34LLY H4V3 TH3 B3ST OF F4C1L1T13S 31TH3R

gC: BUT 1 M4D3 DO :]

EE: Improvisation is easily the best and most impressive skill that one can learn,

gC: Y34H!

gC: SO F3W TROLLS H4V3 1T

EE: Same with humans, Chester couldn't improvise his way out of a paper bag

gC: 4S MUCH 4S 1 W4NT TO K33P SM3LL1NG YOUR SL1GHTLY L3SS D3L1C1OUS R3D FONT

gC: WH4T DO YOU 3V3N W4NT

EE: …

EE: Right, anyway,

EE: I'm going to be blunt with this, are you a filthy communist spy

gC: 1 DO NOT 3V3N KNOW WH4T TH4T 1S

gC: :/

EE: …i can't really tell if you're honest, so I'll just take your word for it, it seems

gC: YOUR3 W4Y SM4RT3R TH4N MOST OF TH3 OTH3R HUM4NS FOR B31NG SUSP1C1OUS

gC: BUT 1V3 H4D MY FUN W1TH YOU 4DOR4BL3 P1NK MONK3YS

gC: 1M B31NG H3LPFUL NOW

gC: :)

EE: Everything about that statement seems completely trustworthy...

gC: 3X4CTLY!

EE: ...Alright

EE: So are you folks actually real aliens

gC: OF COURS3 NOT!

gC: W3 4R3 F4K3 HUM4NS TRY1NG TO TR1CK YOU

gC: 1N TH3 STUP1D3ST 4ND MOST 3L4BOR4T3 W4Y POSS1BL3

EE: …

gC: TH4T W4S TH3 4NC13NT TROLL CUSTOM OF S4RC4SM

gC: 1N C4S3 YOUR SM4LL HUM4N BR41N COULDNT UND3RST4ND 1T

EE: My brain is not small,

EE: I am very smart

gC: 1M SUR3

EE: Yeah, well

EE: Screw you, I'd kick your ass any-day

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **gallowsCallibrator [gC]** -

Pausing in his descent of the slope, Evan snorted in irritation. This 'Terezi' girl alien was simultaneously one of the most interesting and relateable, as well as one of the most obnoxious people he had ever met.

He would have liked to ask more questions, but he felt that ending the discussion then and there on his terms, was better and made a more lasting impression.

His train of thought was then interrupted by the pesterchum notification noise.

Opening the chat client in his glasses again, he quickly browsed through the new message, and growled. This would not do at all...

\- **gallowsCallibrator [gC]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

gC: 1 C4N S33 YOUR3 OBV1OUSLY COW3D BY MY SUP3R1OR 1NT3LL1G3NC3

gC: BUT TH4TS NO R34SON TO RUN 4W4Y FROM TH3 CONV3RS4T1ON

gC: L1K3 4 L1TTL3 WR1GGL3R

EE: HEY!

EE: IM NOT RUNNING!

EE: YOU'RE RUNNING!

gC: 4CTU4LLY NO 1M NOT

gC: B3S1D3S WHY WOULD 1 3V3R RUN 4W4Y FROM YOU

EE: I'LL

EE: I'LL...

EE: I'll kill you so hard you die to death

gC: OH 4ND HOW WOULD YOU DO TH4T :?

gC: HMMMMMM

EE: IVE KILLED PLENTY OF PEOPLE BEFORE

gC: HOW 1MPR3SS1V3

gC: SO H4V3 1

EE: I'LL WATERBOARD YOU WITH GASOLINE!

gC: GRU3SOM3

gC: 1 L1K3 1T

gC: :]

EE: I'LL TAMPER WITH YOUR PLUMBING,

EE: AND PUT CRUSHED GLASS IN YOUR DRINKING WATER

gC: P3RSON4LLY 1D CUT YOUR THRO4T

gC: 4ND SM3LL YOU BL33D OUT ON TH3 FLOOR W1TH TH4T T4STY R3D BLOOD OF YOURS

gC: BUT TH4T WOULD WORK TOO

EE: ...Cutting people's throats takes way too long, and it's too impractical unless they're already restrained,

EE: At which point it's kinda pointless, and a waste of time,

gC: 1T K1ND4 1S

gC: 1 PR3F3R H4NG1NG BY TH3 N3CK UNT1L D34TH TO B3 HON3ST

EE: Hanging needs trees though,

gC: NOT 1F YOU H4V3 4NY OTH3R T4LL OBJ3CT N34RBY

gC: :]

EE: ...Good point

EE: I suppose it also leaves a demoralizing display for others,

gC: OH D3F1N1T3LY

gC: B4CK ON 4LT3RN14 MY TR33 H1V3 H4D S3V3R4L D3SP1C4BL3 CR1M1N4LS H4NG1NG FROM 1TS BR4NCH3S

EE: That's pretty awesome,

EE: Ever since Chester said that Canadia had ab...abo... _gotten rid_ of the death penalty, i've been kinda depressed.

EE: Stupid namby-pamby values corrupting the justice system

gC: TH3Y GOT R1D OF 1T?

gC: HOW D3SP1C4BL3!

gC: H1S HONOUR4BL3 TYR4NNY MUST B3 TURN1NG 1N H1S GR4V3

EE: ...I don't know who that is, but he sounds like a swell guy

gC: H1S HONOUR4BL3 TYR4NNY US3D TO JUDG3 4LT3RN14L TR14LS 4ND 34T TH3 GU1LTY

EE: Eat the guilty, that sounds like cannibalism

gC: H3 W4SNT 4 TROLL

gC: H3 W4S 4 G14NT MONST3R

gC: SO 1TS OK4Y

EE: That sounds reasonable then, a kind of justice I can get behind

EE: Anyway, back to my original question,

EE: Since you aren't a communist, what are your intentions towards Dave

EE: Some of your directions have been...questionable

gC: 4S MUCH 4S 1 L1K3 TO M3SS W1TH TH3 COOLK1D

gC: JUST L1K3 YOU 1 W4NT TO S33 J4CK D3F34T3D

EE: Alright, but how can I trust your directions to him

gC: YOU C4NT

gC: :]

gC: TH4TS TH3 B3ST P4RT

EE: …

EE: I guess I don't really have any other choice, do I

gC: 4WWW

gC: YOU 4LW4YS H4V3 4 CHO1C3

gC: JUST ONLY ON3 1S TH3 R1GHT ON3

EE: So, I guess you can keep guiding Dave then, and I'll follow suit,

EE: Just be warned, i'll be watching you,

EE: And if you have tricked us,

EE: I'll follow up on my promises

gC: TH4T WOULD B3 4 SH4M3

EE: huh, why

gC: B3C4US3 TH3N 1 WOULD H4V3 TO K1LL YOU

gC: 4ND YOUR3 4LMOST 4S 3NT3RT41N1NG 4S TH3 D4V3 HUM4N

\- **gallowsCallibrator [gC]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Evan stopped, his fist clenched tightly, and a snarl building in the back of his throat. To his surprise, it suddenly gave way to laughter. His booming chortling drew a confused glance from Dave, who wondered if the shaking psychopath had finally lost the last of his marbles.

Evan inwardly was an incomprehensible mess of anger and respect and rivalry. That was the first time _anyone_ had ever dared to speak to him like that. He wasn't yet sure if he liked it, or if it stoked his anger.

Still, his respect for the (Still potential) communist spy alien girl, had increased vastly.

Ceasing his shaking, he gestured back down the path to Dave, indicating that he was ready to move on. Shrugging, his red suited companion resumed the walk downwards.

Despite his new-found respect for her, Evan still found himself wondering how best to kill the Terezi girl...


	33. Act II: Chapter 8

_**Oh wow! It updated!**_

 _ **Hey folks. I would like to apologize for the long wait time on this one. It was mostly due to a whole bunch of stuff going on irl, and the fact that this chapter took a lot of digging through MSPA and other sites to keep the timelines mostly accurate.**_

 _ **I appreciate all of your support, you guys are the best. Anyway, I own nothing, save the OC's, and I hope you all enjoy!**_

Deep in the veil, within the depths of an unassuming space rock, a lone troll sat at a dim computer station.

Reclining in his chair and inwardly seething, Eridan Ampora let out an irritated sigh.

Just a few moments ago, he had again confronted the mustard-blooded scum that dared to solicit flushed affections from his moirail. Apart from the usual barbs that he and Sollux frequently exchanged, the argument was relatively normal, if it could be called that.

However, it all changed when Feferi finally, for the first time in one of their confrontations, spoke up, and made her wishes known.

He was dumbstruck when she said that she was fed up with being his moirail, and that she certainly and absolutely didn't intend to _ever_ pursue any form of flushed relationship with him either. Shocked and betrayed, he dimly left the room, and staggered back into the little space in the husk-top room he had claimed as his own.

He'd been sitting like that for a while now, lost in a swirling haze of thoughts. Where did it all go so wrong? How could she leave him for _Sollux_? What would he even do now?

His instincts were screaming at him to finish what he'd started on Sollux's planet. To kill the lowblood, and win back Feferi's bloodpusher. Maybe then, she'd accept a matespriteship with him.

Deep down though, he knew he was deluding himself. She had made her desires abundantly clear, and though it pained him to admit it to himself, there really was no way to re-interpret her words as anything else.

Idly stroking the edge of his violet cape, he wistfully stared at the floor. It just wasn't fair. They were _meant_ for each other! Then that damned lowblood had to ruin everything!

Why couldn't she see that he wasn't anywhere near good enough for one of her royal blood?

Tightening his grip in rage, he stood up.

He just...didn't want to even think about it any more!

Pacing furiously to the door, he placed his hand on the nearby panel and opened it. Entering the cool, dim hallway of the meteor in which they were all now taking shelter, he sighed.

Perhaps he'd just walk for a bit and clam down.

He faintly smiled at the mental fish-pun.

Then, well...he'd figure it out from there.

He paced into the darkness of the meteor, his steps echoing loudly in the empty gloom...

XXXXX

Elsewhere in the cavernous space-rock, a Jade-blooded troll exited pesterchum and stood up from the husk-top station.

Kanaya Maryam was growing very concerned for the human called 'Rose'.

It was rapidly becoming more and more clear that the human girl was turning to especially malevolent and manipulative sources in her quest to defeat Jack Noir by any means necessary.

Automatically smoothing the wrinkles in her long skirt, Kanaya frowned. She had tried on several occasions to dissuade Rose from her course, even growing to befriend the brilliant and witty girl in the process, but the insufferably stubborn human refused to budge.

She idly wondered if their whole species was like that.

It would certainly explain a lot.

Glancing back at her husk-top computation device, she began to once more think about how to limit the damage Rose seemed intent to do to both their sessions. The blasted human had so far managed to blow up the first set of portals above her house. As if that wasn't enough, she had then went on to demolish game constructs on her planet, and utterly ignore the intended progression of events in her designated aspect 'Quest'.

Her thoughts turning to the odd child she had spoken to the last time she had contacted Rose, it seemed that the situation had grown even worse. Rose was now actively recruiting minions to further her dark agenda.

To cap off the pile of disastrous events, Rose had somehow gotten her hands on some manner of eldritch artifact, that was visibly sinking it's hooks into her mind. Yet, for all her genius, Rose remained utterly blind to the manipulations of external parties.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door at the end of the room slid open with a hydraulic 'hiss'. With a dramatic cape-swish, Eridan Ampora paced into the room.

Noticing her, he froze. Clearly, he didn't intend to run into anyone.

For a moment, they both quietly stared at each-other.

During the pause, Kanaya noted the dishevelled state of his robes, and the haggard look on his face.

Cautiously, she ventured, "Hello Eridan What Brings You Here"

Being a Jade blood, and having been raised from birth to work in the grub caverns and deal with the young of their species, Kanaya was privy to many details of troll biology that even most high-bloods didn't bother to learn. It was rather evident even to the most uninformed lowblood that the high-bloods, especially those with violet or purple blood were violent and mentally unstable. However, this was not due to simple personal choice on their part, as the high-bloods' very biology led to them being mentally and emotionally unstable, able to go from relative calm, to a violent rage in moments.

Thus, when seeing Eridan visibly agitated and distraught, Kanaya decided to err on the side of caution, and try to avoid any violent outbursts from her (sort-of) friend. Their whole situation was bleak enough as it was.

Recovering from his surprise, Eridan replied with a shaky voice, "im just goin for a wwalk kan",

Narrowing her eyes, (And inwardly sighing about having to look after _yet another_ of her companions on the meteor), she asked in a warm, motherly tone, "Are You Sure That You Are Alright Eridan You Seem Upset"

Eridan's gaze fell to the ground, awkwardly, he muttered, "im alright kan"

"evverythins okay"

She sighed impatiently, "I Really Do Not Have The Time To Deal With This Eridan"

Continuing, she said "Its Abundantly Clear That Something Is Bothering You"

Eridan narrowed his eyes, immediately growing defensive and confrontational. (As usual)

"im not hidin anything kan wwhy are you harassing me about it" he growled,

"Either Tell Me Or Continue To Brood On It And Fix Nothing In The Process" she replied, not especially enthusiastic about having to go through the whole charade with Eridan. He wasn't actually trying to get her to stop bothering him, he was just a...difficult troll to get along with, and he had many _unpleasant_ quirks.

Frowning thoughtfully, Eridan hesitantly muttered, "wwell i had a talk wwith fef"

He paused, torn between grief and rage, Kanaya could tell where this was going.

"and that mustardblooded scum wwas there too"

Kanaya rolled her eyes, "And Pray Tell Eridan What Did Sollux Do"

"im gettin to that" he snapped, "he wwas solicitin her and i stepped in to put him in his place"

Gesturing angrily he continued, "wwe argued like usual, naturally i wwas wwinning but then fef..." as he trailed off, his (mostly non-existent) composure broke, and his eyes began to tear up.

Outwardly, Kanaya was nodding sympathetically. Inwardly, she deeply sighed, this was going to be extremely unpleasant.

While she didn't exactly know just what Feferi had said to him, she could certainly guess. Eridan was an alternating clingy and insufferable troll, and it could very easily have been assumed that Feferi had finally grown weary of their matespriteship, and broke it off. Kanaya inwardly smiled, good for her.

But then, a terrifying thought hit her.

Eridan was likely now running around unsupervised and uncontrolled.

The biggest part that moirail quadrant relationships played in troll society was to keep trolls from falling to the natural aggression that lay within them all. High-bloods, were naturally more unstable and aggressive, and thus often needed someone to keep their feelings in check, to keep the killing down.

At this point, Eridan had likely just lost his moirail.

The only troll on (The currently destroyed) Alternia that had any real degree of control over him.

Having an emotionally unstable high-blood with a penchant for duelling and a general hatred of land-dwellers wandering around the meteor while in a strange depression/rage, would inevitably lead to slaughter.

Although he had once told her that when he inevitably began his genocide of the land-dwellers, she would be spared in light of their (distant) friendship, Kanaya had no intention of letting him run rampant through the meteor, blowing up everything apart from her that he could find with his stupid rifle.

Thus, once again taking the burden of responsibility upon her shoulders, she walked back to the husk-top station, and pulled out two chairs. Gesturing to the one beside her, she said, "Why Dont You Sit Down Eridan And Tell Me All About That"

He faintly nodded, and made his way over to the offered chair.

As he began his strange combination of ranting and blubbering, she dimly wondered just how Feferi had stood this hipster for so long...

XXXXX

Much time later...

"and noww i just dont knoww wwhat to do anymore" Eridan murmured, reclining in the chair, cape draped over it's back.

Kanaya nodded. Inwardly groaning in annoyance, but presenting an attentive outward appearance, she said, "It Appears That Feferi Has Made Her Wishes Known"

Eridan nodded slowly, "yeah i guess that she did"

Scowling, he muttered a curse, "its all that stupid lowwbloods fault he stole her awway from me"

Having finally had enough, (but still valuing her life), Kanaya sighed, and said, "I Do Not Think That He Stole Her From You Eridan,"

He whipped around to face her, "do you knoww somethin about this kan" he desperately asked,

She inwardly smiled, this could perhaps be used to spin Eridan into a co-operative and helpful teammate. (As if)

Slyly, she slowly began, "I May Have Heard Certain Things In A Second Hand Way"

"wwhat thins tell me" He demanded, hanging on her every word,

"Well" she began, "And You Didnt Hear This From Me But I Have Heard That Feferi Was Growing Very Disgruntled With Your Performance As A Morail For Quite Some Time Now" trailing off dramatically, she inwardly concentrated on her exact word choice, this would need to be very precise and delicate, lest she condemn herself and everytroll else to death by angry hipster,

"Instead Of Sollux Stealing Her Bloodpusher Perhaps **You** Pushed Her Away Instead" She delicately suggested,

Her words had the desired effect, Eridan paled, his gaze falling to the floor.

"but howw" he choked out, devastated and confused.

"I Believe The Biggest Factor Was Your Inability To Provide Morail Support For Her" Kanaya softly murmured, before adding, "As Well As Your Many Emotional Problems That You Dumped On Her"

His hands reaching towards his face, he groaned, "youre ...right kan"

For a few moments they sat like that, both quiet.

With a deep breath, he sat up and straightened his cape.

Turning to her he asked, "do you think i could wwin her back"

Seeing the negative glint in her eyes, he tried again, "in any wway at all"

She simply shook her head, causing him to tilt his downwards again, and mutter, "i didnt think so either... she wwas clear about that""

Continuing his stare at the slate grey metal floor, he hopelessly asked, "wwhat am i goin to do noww"

Despite her annoyance, Kanaya couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity. "It Will All Likely Turn Out Alright Eridan" She said, trying to calm him down.

"its just that her moirallegiance wwas the only thin keepin me from just killin that mustardblooded scum" he muttered, quietly adding, "i only didnt fight him any more because i lovved her and...killin him wwould upset her"

"noww though..." He continued, causing her to panic slightly at his implications. Perhaps he needed a moirail more that it was first apparent. She was beginning to see only one way out of this mess that she had slightly helped make. Well, only one way that _didn't_ end with mass slaughter.

She felt like this this next part wasn't going to be particularly enjoyable...

Before he could continue, she interrupted, "I Suppose Eridan, That I Might Be... Willing To Temporarily Act As Your Moirail" hurriedly, she added, "Until Things Settle Down That Is"

Eridan stared at her, slack-jawed, the small fins on the sides of his neck flaring out in shock. Slowly, he replied, "wwell i wwas goin to say that i didnt really feel like doing much of anything right noww let alone fightin" Glancing at her and making direct eye-contact, he gloomily added, "but... i guess if youre takin pity on me i might as wwell accept"

Slightly peeved that he saw through her intentions so easily, she replied, "There Will Be Conditions To This Moirallegiance Though"

If she was going to go out of her way to deal with all of his problems and neurosis's, he was damn well going to be put to work in the relationship too. She would suffer no slacking on his end. Since she was willing to deal with him, then the least he could do was to at least _pretend_ to be a concerned and caring moirail, and help her out with some of _her problems_.

Thus, she matter-of-factly declared, "I Will Not Put Up With All Of Your Problems Like Feferi Did, Out Of The Kindness Of My Bloodpusher"

Making sure he was paying attention, she resumed, "I Expect You To Properly Fulfil Your Duties As A Moirail And To Help Me Out With My Problems Just As I Would Help You With Yours"

"you havve problems" He asked, disbelieving

She narrowed her eyes, "And What Is That Supposed To Mean"

Eridan at least had the courtesy to _look_ apologetic, "wwell... youre really boring and uninteresting its hard to imagine you havving problems" Smiling slightly, he added, "i mean that in a good wway"

Shaking her head, she deeply sighed, and after a few moments of intense internal debate she decided to formally inaugurate the new moirallegiance.

"Well... If You Are Accepting Of The Conditions There Is Something Ive Been Needing To Talk About" she hesitantly began,

Eridan shrugged, "this is already a feelins jam in all but name, go ahead"

Collecting her thoughts, she began, "Well I Am Concerned About One Of The Humans, I Am Likely The Only One To Notice, But She Has Nefarious Plans In Motion..."

Seeming to actually listen carefully, Eridan motioned for her to continue, this new intrigue succeeding in drawing him out of his shell of self-pity and anger.

There they both sat for quite some time, eventually changing topics entirely and speaking of the past and of the future. They talked of trashy Rainbow-drinker romances, and of history. Of loves lost, decisions not made, and paths not taken...

As they talked, Kanaya found herself smiling imperceptibly, and thinking that, ' _This May Not Be Quite So Bad As I Initially Thought..._ '

XXXXX

Elsewhere within the labyrinthine rooms of the meteor, A muscular Blue-Blood and a petite Olive-Blood sat together against a wall.

Leaning against her moirail, Nepeta looked up. "hey, equius?" she murmured,

The larger troll stirred, "mmmm?" he grunted gently.

"i was wondering if you were f33ling better, about the blue aradiabot and all"

Sighing deeply, much like a large land mammal, such as the majestic hoof-beast, Equius replied, "I suppose that I am feeling rather bl00 about it still"

Stretching his arms, he added, "But I am STRONG, and I will persevere and see things through, do not worry about me, Nepeta"

She smiled, playfully prodding him with her paw-mittens, "that's purrty good, i guess, as long as you're alright"

Equius very gently and deliberately fended her off, carefully trying not to break her tiny hands. With his deep, rumbling voice, he said, "I once again must offer to you my appreciation, your abilities as a moirail are unmatched, my STRONG muscles shudder at the thought of dealing with this without you."

She beamed at his praise, "you're not so bad yourself, mr. 'punch things until they stop'."

Playfully hunching over and tucking her head between her shoulders, she began a brief roleplay, "ac grreatfully twitches her whiskers at her best friend's continued purrtection of her from the evil spider girl"

Equius turned a deep shade of blue, and awkwardly tried to reciprocate, "I...drat... _Equius_ is more than happy to continue to shield his moirail from the foul predations and %%ings of vicious trolls"

Leaning back against the wall, Nepeta leisurely closed her eyes, and murmured, "thanks. you're the bestest furrend ever."

"You as well", he slowly rumbled.

They sat together quietly for a few moments, before Equius decided to voice a concern that had been on his mind recently, ever since the Highblood had messaged him...

"Nepeta...There is something that I must discuss with you." he slowly began.

When she tilted her head slightly, and cracked open one eye, he continued, slightly flummoxed,

"I...I am not sure how to properly speak of this..."

She smiled gently, "it's alright, equius, take your time."

"Well" he began, "The Highb100d, has contacted me and requested my presence." He could barely contain his excitement and anxiety, he was already beginning to sweat nervously.

Nepeta frowned in confusion, "gamz33?" she asked,

He nodded.

"For whatever reason, the highb100d has finally began acting as befitting his superior caste" Becoming rather flustered, he continued, almost managing an excited squee, despite his deep, booming voice, "This is the best possible event ever Oh, how should I act, I don't want to break social protocol or offend him..."

Breaking through his uncharacteristic mumbling, Nepeta tried to confirm, "so he wants to talk to you?"

"Indeed," Equius replied, "I am very flustered and uncomfortable about the whole situation,"

"But I must go, Being ordered by a highb100d will be the greatest e%perience ever" he continued, eyes dreamily gazing far away.

Trying to cheer him up, Nepeta suggested, "how about i go down with you, we can both get bossed around together? and if you get too cr33py about things, or say something 'rood', i'll step in"

Equius paused thoughtfully, and then a goofy grin slowly formed on his face.

Hugging her with utmost gentleness, he whispered, "Thank you Nepeta"

Standing up, they both strolled over to the entrance.

Equius slowly moved his hand to the door panel. It hovered over the small scanner for a few moments.

She reached over and put her hand on his.

Together, they opened the door, and went into the dark corridor beyond...

XXXXX

In a dark room, a lone cerulean blood lounged behind the dim glow of a husk-top monitor.

Vriska Serket was browsing the time streams of the four humans in the new session that they supposedly had 'created'. Thus far, she was unimpressed. Even Tavros had more martial prowess and courage than this bunch of cowardly weaklings...Well, maybe not.

The John human had once killed a few imps.

That was actually a bigger contribution to his team's success than Nitram had ever done for theirs. Pupa really was quite useless. She definitely should get on that one of these days.

Regardless, she returned to her idle perusal of the four kids. There was John, perhaps the only one of them that was in anyway interesting, the edgy pale girl, the stupid barkbeast girl, and finally, the insufferable glasses wearing idiot that Terezi had taken under her wing.

She almost felt sorry for him.

Still, all was still continuing reasonably and according to plan.

...Wait a second.

She moved closer to the screen.

There was another human with the Dave one.

She quickly checked the other three to find that all were embroiled in their own affairs, on other planets in the medium. That begged the question, who on Alternia was this fifth human?

Idly running forwards through Dave's timeline, she paused at an...interesting moment.

It appeared that Dave and his strange companion were fighting several Giclopses, along with a flood of lesser underlings. The 'cool kid's' fighting abilities were nothing particularly special, but the other human...

The other human was utterly tearing through the teeming ranks of the smaller creatures. Vriska watched, transfixed, as he finished off the last of the smaller underlings with a swipe from some manner of horrifying spinning bladed weapon, and turned his attention to the remaining Giclopses.

The first was killed via bladed object through the eyeball. The second had then proceeded to punch the strange human across the chamber.

That seemed to just make him angrier.

She was then treated to a perfect view of the masked human brutally beating the Giclopses' head in with his bare hands.

From there the timeline view resumed it's sped up rate, and she was left to ponder this new development.

Rewinding the screen, she zoomed in on the rotating bladed weapon the masked human carried.

An evil smile slowly played across her lips.

She had just come up with a very brilliant plan.

Terezi wasn't the only one with irons in the fire...

XXXXX

Upon a Land of Frogs and Frost, a young girl was sitting on a large device, focused intently on her prismatic glasses.

Jade's head was spinning with the sheer vastness of space that could be monitored by the spectagoggles. She had tried to contact Rose a few moments earlier, so the whole 'come up with a plan to defeat Jack' thing could begin, but apparently Rose was otherwise occupied. The strange thing was, that she couldn't even seem to find her with the spectagoggles.

She didn't get too worried about it though, Rose knew what she was doing. She could definitely take care of herself.

So for now, she just occupied herself by browsing the goings-on in the medium.

She frowned.

That was odd.

Her glasses seemed to think that there were no less than thirteen Daves currently inhabiting the medium. It kinda made sense, what with the time-travel and all, but still. It was hard to wrap one's head around.

Then, something happened which quickly seized her attention.

There were now twelve Daves...

Struck with initial alarm, but trying to reassure herself that everything was alright, she frantically willed the goggles to show her the missing Dave.

As the spectagoggles slowly began to shift colours and change to show her target, she was in a strange internal combination of panic and self-reassurance. ' _dave is alright, he has to be, after all why wouldn't he be?_ ' She mentally muttered to herself repeatedly.

Then, the swirling fog of colour in the glasses coalesced and sharpened, and her heart sank. There, in the goggles, lay a green-suited Dave. His body lay crumpled on the ground like a discarded doll, blood staining the front of his suit.

With a half cut off scream, she fell backwards onto the Cruxtruder, and began frantically trying to reach Dave on pesterchum, any Dave at all...

XXXXX

Idly toying with his laptop, Chester suddenly glanced upwards, as a short yell echoed through the dark attic.

Not really sure what was even happening, he captchalogued the laptop and stood up. Glancing around, he figured that they must be under attack or something like that, so he uncaptchalogued the Undertaker, and awkwardly ran towards Jade's last known location.

Rounding a large, cluttered shelving unit, he came upon the Cruxtruder, with Jade sitting on it, seemingly unharmed.

Sighing in relief, he lowered his weapon and puttered down to a slow walk.

"What's going on?" He called out as he approached. That yell did not sound good at all.

 _Somehow_ , it seemed like he'd snuck up on her, as Jade flinched suddenly at his voice. Whipping around to face him, she relaxed. "oh its just you" she muttered,

Captchaloguing the undertaker, he walked closer, noticing how she seemed...off. Delicately, he enquired, "Err...Is everything alright here?"

"no..." she whispered, "dave...he's...well it's actually an alternate timeline dave, but still he's... _dead_."

Chester didn't know the person in the slightest but nonetheless, people dropping dead was not a good thing. Judging by the distraught nature of his companion, it appeared that he was going to have to... provide _emotional support_.

This wasn't going to end well.

Awkwardly he began, "Well...is the real Dave alright?"

She slowly nodded, "i talked to him just now,"

Then, her frantic sorrow turning to anger, she added, "he thinks that it's jack again"

"That makes sense. I doubt any of the minion creatures here can actually harm a player." Chester agreed,

"we need to do something about him," she continued heatedly, "dave mentioned taking out his power source through some kind of suicide mission, but it's too little too late, we need to take action, before anyone else gets hurt!"

He nodded his agreement, the longer that...well, he didn't actually know what Jack looked like, but still, the longer that teleporting murderer was on the loose, the more bodies that would pile up.

Something had to be done.

But what?

Noticing a...concerning gleam in her eyes, that he'd all too often seen on Evan right before stupid and dangerous shit happened, he warily asked, "Do you have something in mind?"

Captchaloguing her laptop, and pulling out some manner of green steak, she said, "why yes, yes i do..."

Motioning for him to follow, she began to elaborate, "perhaps the only nice troll I've talked to had an idea, we could control my sprite, which also has first guardian powers, and have him fight Jack."

Passing through yet more discarded suits of armour, and clutter Jade continued, "however, he dosen't seem to be around right now, so we'll just need to figure out an... _alternate way_ to get Bec to do what we need him to,"

Chester didn't like the way she said that...

Finally, they came upon a very disturbing sight.

Seeming to pop out of the gloom at them, was jade.

Or rather, a...really odd doll lookalike of Jade. It looked really lifelike. Like, really really lifelike.

Wait a second...

Shuddering backwards, he sputtered, "What is that? Don't tell me it's stuffed too!"

Jade shrugged, wistfully replying "that's my dream-self, i guess grandpa must have stuffed it and put it there,"

Chester's mind was refusing to work at that point. Wasn't her grandpa dead?

...Never-mind, he didn't want to know.

Not noticing his terror and revulsion, she continued, "i figure since one of the alternate daves managed to prototype himself, we can prototype her, and we can at least reason with a human sprite, so we can get her to go fight jack with her new superpowers."

Chester's initial concern over the plan faded mostly. This actually seemed very reasonable and planned out. It was clear that an adequate amount of thought had went into this, unlike virtually anything that Evan had ever done.

He had never before known how great it was to have teammates that could think things through. Still, something remained to be said about an ally that could rip his way through an entire army with minimal effort.

"That sounds reasonable." He commented, before asking "How are you going to get your sprite down here though? I don't think I've actually seen him before."

She smiled, nodding to the strange green steak.

"bec was always one to come running when food was involved," She replied, somewhat sadly, likely reminiscing of older days with her still living dog.

Waving the steak in the air, she expectantly stared at the surrounding space.

Just as he was about to ask what she was expecting to happen, a green flash lit up the dim attic. Blinking the spots out of his eyes, he saw the now somewhat familiar outline of a sprite.

Unlike the good commander Boreall, Becquerelsprite was mostly just a green wispy spectre, with a dog's head. Every so often, the semi-transparent body would distort with eldritch green lightning.

The sprite hovered silent for a moment, regarding Jade with a blank stare, before it turned to Chester.

Almost immediately, the dog's ears folded to the sides of his head, and it gave chester a hard stare. A burbling low growl began to build in it's throat.

Chester froze. If he didn't move, then the dog couldn't see him... That sounded about right.

Jade simply nonchalantly walked up to bec and tossed the steak to him, which the sprite began to messily devour. Turning to Chester, she smiled,"awwww...he likes you"

Flabbergasted, he stammered, "Are you blind? He was growling at me."

Jade grinned, "...yeah, he's like that with everyone"

Eyeing the dog warily, he asked, "Is he dangerous?"

She shrugged, "probably not, he's kinda lazy"

Glancing back at the really really odd (probably stuffed) dream-self, Jade said, "so, i guess we just toss her in, and..."

Chester nodded slowly, "I guess so. Can't imagine why it wouldn't work."

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the golden robed body, and with a heaving grunt threw it at the occupied sprite. Chester covered his eyes as yet another green flash illuminated the attic.

Once it cleared, he lowered his arm to see what had happened.

Contrary to his rather pessimistic expectations, the result was not some form of grotesque malformed abomination, but a mostly human sprite that very much resembled jade. The only real canine part about the sprite, was that it had dog ears on-top of its head.

Overall, he figured that everything went pretty well.

Glancing at his companion, he judged from the pleasantly surprised expression on her face that things had gone reasonably according to plan.

Now all that remained was to convince the sprite to go fight jack. If this new...JadeBecSprite was anything like the good commander Boreall, this should be the easy part...

Taking a step forwards towards the seemingly stunned and confused sprite, Jade ventured conversation,

"hi!" she cheerfully greeted, waving at it.

...

After a few moments, when no real response was forthcoming, Jade awkwardly tried again,

"...jade? can you understand me?"

The sprite finally croaked out, in a broken voice that sounded like crushed glass, "...i...i..."

Jade relaxed, "oh good, you can talk, i was starting to get worried there." Starting to gesture with her hands she began to explain, "so i don't know how much you know about what's going on right now, but there's a really dangerous Dersite with first guardian powers, and we need you to..."

She was interrupted as the sprite suddenly groaned, "what...did you do?"

Chester frowned, this was beginning to seem...not right. Perhaps prototyping a dead person with a dog might have been _slightly_ traumatizing to the person. Maybe they just needed to give the sprite a minute.

Staring at her strange paw-hands in a mix of terror and confusion, the sprite continued, wailing "what did you do?"

Jade was finally beginning to pick up on the 'uh-oh' vibes, and began backing away, raising her hands in a placating gesture, "uh...calm down there, everything's okay there's no need to be upset" she hesitantly said

The sprite raised it's (her?) voice, continuing it's crazed mantra of "wHAT dID yOu DO?!" That outburst was accompanied by a sharp blast of green lighting, which struck a nearby wall, causing sparks to rain down on them.

Making the astounding logical decision that this was an unsafe situation, Chester called to Jade, who was still trying to pacify the deranged sprite, "I DONT THINK THAT'S WORKING! WE SHOULD PROBABLY RUN OR HIDE OR SOMETHING!"

Nodding, Jade abandoned her attempts at calming the sprite, and waved Chester over to a large support pillar. Just as they reached it, the entire tower shook as yet more green lighting struck the walls.

"Why are we still here?" Chester demanded, running as far away from the tower was clearly the superior option.

"the tower can't take much more of this!" she shouted back, "if you want to take your chances on the stairs when it falls, be my guest" Gesturing at the ceiling, she continued, "besides, if the roof falls in, under here is the only place you wont get crushed"

Seeing the logic in her argument, he nodded and crouched beside her, grabbing onto the pillar. As the tower continued to shake and tremble, for whatever reason, he mentally marvelled at how nice it was to work with someone who also used common sense. Evan would have probably just tried to kill the sprite, or interrogate it about it's ties to global communism.

His musings were then interrupted by a final great shudder that was accompanied by a near blinding flash of light.

Then, to his horror, the room lurched and a deafening crack was heard. The floor seemed to fall out from under him, as he was sent hurtling to the other side of the room. Dimly, he saw Jade being flung across the now heavily tilting room aswell.

As she hit the wall beside him, the entire room suddenly moved downwards at terrifying speed, sending them both into the ceiling.

He hit the ceiling with a resounding thud, his head sharply bounced off the concrete, and everything slowly faded out...

 _ **A/N: So, the next chapter will also likely be a mess of viewpoints as I try to set the ground work for a few key events such as [s]Seek The Highblood, that bit where Rose Goes grimderp, and where Dave shows up on Lofaf. Naturally, most of those will end rather differently due to all the butterfly effecting going on. Anyway, I am once again sorry for the lengthy wait time, and I can only really assume that two-ish weeks is the earliest that the next chapter can come out.**_

 _ **Anyway, I urge and beg everyone to review, I thank everyone for reading, and I hope you all have a good spring break.**_


	34. Act II: Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello folks, I have returned with another Chapter! This is yet another one which features a sprawling mess of POV's and characters, as I continue setting the stage for a few main events. In other news, nothing is really going on over here on my end, so normal wait times for chapters are to be expected.**

 **I obviously own nothing save the Oc's, and I hope you all enjoy.**

Upon a land of Light and Rain, a lone figure sat in a dark parlour.

Wrapping up her conversation with Kanaya, Rose folded her laptop closed and sighed. It seemed that her distant alien friend was going to continue to nag her about being responsible and safe.

Standing up and idly rubbing circles from her eyes, Rose scoffed at the need to be 'safe' and 'responsible', in a failing session that was rigged against them from the start. It was all clear to her now.

Well, mostly clear.

Anything that Dave or Jade would try to plan or figure out, even with Kanaya's help, was inevitably doomed to fail. The very session was stacked against them. If they played by the rules, nothing would succeed. Jack Noir would kill everyone, trolls and humans alike.

The only option thus, was to not abide by the rules at all...

But rather, to break them...

To that end, she was beginning to make progress. Through her dreams on Derse, she was able to make contact with an emissary of the horrorterrors, incomprehensible lovecraftian beings dwelling outside the galaxy.

She had initially assumed that the furthest ring was utterly lifeless, due to the whole, ' _no functioning laws of physics,_ ' thing that was going on out there. The fact that time and space literally did not exist there, in the bleak and empty expanse at the edges of reality, did not help matters either.

Apparently, it was host to a...race? ...Well, no, not quite. More along the lines of a...collection of completely independent and separate beings known as horrorterrors. Utterly alien and incomprehensible amalgamations with a million eyes and mouths, their forms distorted by writhing tentacles and beaks and jaws.

Despite still not having been awakened, her dream-self on Derse was contacted by one of their number during an eclipse of the purple chess planet.

The being that had made contact with her, had called (herself?) itself Ebrietas, the celestial emissary. It had offered her the knowledge and support of the smallest pantheon of their kind, the only ones that had any real concern or interest in mortal affairs. It spoke of granting her great powers, and tutelage in the darkest arts.

...This offer was not suspicious in the slightest.

Obviously, Rose had poured much thought into it, and well...the benefits of their patronage heavily outweighed the risks of their obvious secret agenda. With great hesitation, she accepted the emissary's offer.

The results were initially underwhelming.

Her soul was not signed away, she was not possessed (as far as she could tell), and no evil voices began to whisper in her mind. Positive results, also initially seemed negligible. No new forbidden knowledge or superpowers were gleaned.

'Though, the key word really was _initially_ ,' she mused.

Soon enough after, she was _granted_ the black knowledge to give her wands an...upgrade. The newly minted 'Thorns of Oglogoth', were noticeably different than the originals. Initially, having been prototyped with a black grimoire, they radiated dark majjyks and power. But now...

The old wands were little more than a shadow on the wall, compared to the utter blackness that the new wands radiated. Even with them sitting on the coffee table beside her, they seemed to suck the very light and warmth out of the room. The surge of power she had experienced just from holding them, was...exhilarating, to say the least.

Rose still wasn't entirely sure how her still sleeping dream-self could have actually made contact with something, particularly while she was still awake, but the contact had been made, nonetheless. It was as if the dream-self had acted like an intermediary between herself and the emissary.

Still, she now had more than a few tricks up her sleeves, should Jack Noir come calling. The horrorterrors had not yet begun any tutelage or patronage on her behalf, but that would likely come soon. Besides, she had things to do, places to be, and most importantly, secrets to unlock. Gazing at the white orb that sat in her lap, still refusing to surrender it's knowledge to her, Rose frowned. It had resisted her long enough, the time had come to deal with it...

Rising from the couch, captchaloguing her wands and the troublesome orb, she walked through the dim house towards the kitchen. Idly, she noted how warmth seemed to flood the room, and how the lingering darkness retreated into the shadowy corners of the room, now that the Thorns of Oglogoth were sheathed within her fetch-modus.

Incidentally, the sourceless whispering that she'd been hearing had also went away.

'Good riddance', she inwardly muttered.

They certainly were quite cool, and definitely useful for the 'dark witch' persona she was trying to cultivate, but when they never shut up or went away, even in private...that was when they began to grow annoying.

Sighing, she stepped into the slightly better lit kitchen, where a few thin streams of light came in through cracks in the blinds. At the table, Chris sat, plinking away at his laptop, happy and oblivious to the world.

Leaning against a counter-top, she coughed, "Ahem,"

Suddenly taking notice of her, Chris snapped his head up, and hurriedly pulled out his headphones.

"Ohyouredone!" he excitedly burbled, "canwe goand dosomething now? Imbored"

Rose nodded gracefully, "Why yes, we may."

Turning to the back door, she continued, "In fact, I have a target in mind, that would offer a much appreciated change of scenery."

Motioning for him to follow, she went outside.

Walking across the sparkling sands a good distance away from the house, she turned and glanced upwards, waiting for her companion to catch up. After a few moments, a bedraggled Chris exited the house, and slowly waded across the sand towards her.

Still grumbling incoherently about his aversion to sunlight, he came to a halt beside her.

Nodding upwards, she pointed at the fourth portal above her house. It was about a mile in the air, a coin sized circle of violet runes in the sky. She had broken the secrets of the seven portals a while ago, with the destruction of the first one.

They all led to various locations in the medium, acting as a form of level based progression that made sure that players could only access areas once their house was built high enough, thus assuring that they were of an appropriate skill level to handle the new challenges in that area.

She though, had destroyed the first, and now intended to skip the next few. This would be a bad idea... for those not armed with eldritch sorceries and knowledge of the blackest arts, as well as being accompanied by a god-tier.

"Do you see the fourth portal Chris?" she asked,

Squinting through his metal helmet, he nodded slowly.

"Good. We are going to pass through it, and travel to Dave's planet." she continued, "Do you understand?"

"yep!" Chris exclaimed cheerfully.

Satisfied with his understanding of the plan, she turned her gaze upwards, uncaptchalogued her wands, inadvertently sending Chris stumbling away from their awful aura, and took to the skies, trailing a corona of dark tendrils and shadows.

Chris shivered, took a deep breath, and fluidly lifted into the air with gog-tier majjyks.

Following the trail of inky smoke his new friend had left was far from challenging. Gracefully pushing himself higher and higher, he passed several really neat portal...things, before finally reaching the one Rose had entered. Pausing just before it, Chris took a deep breath.

He really hoped this wasn't going to be like that other door portal...

With that, he pushed himself upwards a few more feet, and into the slowly rotating purple circle. With a violet flash, Chris was gone...

XXXXX

Upon a Land of Heat and Clockwork, two figures sat inside a particularly large sprawl of industrial machinery.

Sitting beside his coolkid companion, Evan was browsing pesterchum, trying to get in contact with Chester again. Dave had mentioned earlier that the time for fooling around and executing Terezi's mysterious and unproductive plans was over, and that they actually had to try to figure out how to fight Jack.

Evan snorted. He knew full well how to fight this Jack fellow. Chainsword to the ribcage, followed by a few bursts from his flamethrower. Stomping on skull for added effect. Easy peasy.

He really didn't see what all the fuss was about.

These namby pamby children had probably just never killed anyone before.

Slowly shaking his head, he returned his gaze to his monitor. It was kinda odd, Chester seemed to be offline. Not one to usually get concerned about things, Evan simply shrugged. His internet was probably on the fritz or something. If he didn't come back on in half an hour, then he'd get concerned.

With his primary goal unachievable, he simply grunted, and glanced up at Dave. His companion had been trying to message Rose, who was apparently related to him through 'ecto-biosomething shenadigans', or something like that. Judging by the fact that he too, was idly scanning the horizon, it seemed that Rose was also unavailable.

Evan frowned. This meant that they'd have to figure out a plan together. He hated doing that. Rolling his eyes and sighing deeply, he ventured conversation,

"...So, I guess that rose person is offline too"

Dave nodded slowly, "it seems so, she was supposed to get in touch with me so we could get all crafty up in here, and actually figure out what to do, but she's apparently got some kind of other ideas."

Pausing for a moment, glancing out at the lake of magma beneath them, he added, "then again, jack might have suddenly watched a 'fix your life video' a few minutes ago, decided to stop being a lazy waste of space, and has started picking us all off one by one..." Ominously, he trailed off, before quickly continuing, "...or she's just being uncooperative and secretive...that's a possibility too"

Evan shrugged, "Chester seems to be offline too, maybe there's a problem with their hardware", he suggested,

Dave dramatically gasped, and turned to him slowly,

"oh. my. gog." he theatrically whispered, "he got them too..."

Evan frowned, Chester was probably alright, what was Dave talking about?

Continuing the elaborate charade, Dave non-nonchalantly shrugged, "well, i guess there's nothing to be alarmed about, they're obviously pranking us or something, the obvious and logical thing to do now is clearly to split up. all those footsteps upstairs are clearly just the wind. the glass breaking downstairs is obviously just our imaginations. anyway, do you want to go investigate the dark, spooky basement for no logical reason, or should I?"

"There's no basement here..." Evan began, wondering if Dave had hit his head recently.

"nah, never-mind, just busting into hardcore word-smithing again," Dave dismissively replied,

The look of confusion in Evan's eyes never went away, but he remained silent. Then, Evan's calm was broken when his pesterchum notification beeped.

Immediately assuming the messager to be Chester, he frantically reopened the chat client, and navigated to respond to the message. To his deep disappointment and surprise, the sender was not Chester.

Nor, was it anyone else that he knew.

With a gruff sigh of annoyance, he replied. Just his luck, this was probably another of those stupid fake aliens. A curious Dave scooted over, and glanced over his shoulder.

"Probably another dumb fake alien," Evan grumbled as a preemptive explanation.

- **arachnidsGrip [aG** **]** began pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

aG: Hey there human,

EE: ...Alright then, what do you want?

aG: Why do I specifically have to want something, hmmmmmmmm?

aG: Can't I just I just talk to the interesting aliens 8ecause I'm 8ored?

EE: uhh...

EE: I guess, I don't know

EE: Why are you bothering me though,

aG: oh no reason, no reason at all

aG: ...Say, you know, that gets me thinking...

aG: You know what really gets on my nerves?

EE: Do I look like this interests me in any way?

aG: Weak and spineless trolls...err...humans

aG: Aren't they simply the worst? Holding everytroll else 8ack, and 8eing little more than useless dead weight?

EE: I guess, the weakness of others usually gets on my nerves, but how is this relevant here?

aG: Oh no reason, no reason at all...

EE: Why are you bothering me about it then? I don't even know you

aG: Oh, I guess we'll have to rectify that, shall we?

aG: Vriska Serket, charmed, I'm sure

EE: Uh...

EE: Evan Mc-Cready, and you still haven't answered my question...

aG: Say, you're a pretty skilled killer, aren't you?

EE: Well...

aG: Great, so I have a little pro8lem that I think you'd 8e wonderful in solving

aG: You see, there's a very incompetent and useless troll on our team...

aG: ...and he is just a8out totally worthless and spineless in every way...

EE: That sounds like a you problem...

aG: ...so since you're quite proficient at murdering things, and 8eing strong and useful, I was hoping you could have a chat with him, and teach him to 8e less pathetic

EE: Well, err...

EE: Ummm

EE: I don't really like weakness or cowardice, but I don't think I'm the one you want to deal with this,

EE: I've spent years on Chris, and he still hasn't changed or improved.

EE: God knows I've utterly given up on Chester...

aG: That should 8e fine, toreadum8ass is a total doormat,

aG: if you tell him to get stronger and stop 8eing a wimp, he'll do it out of sheer fear and an ina8ility to say no, if nothing else

EE: ...I still haven't agreed to anything...

aG: You'll do it? Wonderfull, I knew I could count on you.

EE: Are you even listening to me?

aG: His tag's adiosToreador

aG: Thanks again, you're helping a useless coward make something of himself

EE: Hey, wait just a second here!

- **arachnidsGrip [aG]** ceased pestering **EnragedExtremist [EE]** -

Evan frowned in confusion.

That was the single strangest conversation he had ever had, bar none. Even when compared to the strange horse-loving fake alien. For a few moments, he quietly sat there, staring at his laptop screen in disbelief.

Dave poked him, "what's going on" he questioned.

Evan snapped back into the present, "Uhhh..." he began, "Some fake alien or something wants me to go bother another fake alien"

"that's not terezi, is it" Dave asked,

Evan shook his head, "I think her name is Vriska something or other..." he replied,

Dave paused thoughtfully, "i think tz mentioned her once...can't quite remember what she said about her"

Evan shrugged, "Probably nothing important," he dismissively muttered,

"are you going to do what she wants" Dave asked, eyeing the screen with mild suspicion,

"might as well, Chester's being uncooperative anyway" Evan grumbled, halfheartedly typing in the other troll's username,

Apparently the other fake alien was a weakling coward or something, and she wanted him to...give a motivational speech or something... because he was so good at those.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He was a fighter for democracy and freedom...he most certainly had never signed up to deal with cowards and spineless scum.

' _Besides_ ', he reflected, ' _My motivational track record with Chester and Chris is far from the greatest,'_

Still, this was worth a shot. If he could fix the flaws of even a single (Definitely not an alien) person, it would be worth it. Thus, he finished entering the target's chum handle, and upon finding a matching account, messaged it.

 **-EnragedExtremist [EE]** began pestering **adiosToreador -**

EE: Alright you worthless sack of shit, listen up!

aT: uH...HELLO

EE: Don't you 'hello' me

EE: One of your friends has had enough of your spineless crap, and has called me in to fix you,

aT: ,,,IM SORRY,

aT: bUT,,,UH,,,WHO ARE YOU,

EE: That's not important,

EE: I'm here to make you a strong and useful person

EE: So shut up and pay attention,

aT: iM SORRY, bUT YOU SAID ONE OF MY FRIENDS TOLD YOU TO TALK TO ME,

EE: Yeah, vrisky serkoot or something like that,

EE: I would have ignored her, but Chester's offline and I've nothing better to do

aT: uHH,,,DO YOU MEAN VRISKA SERKET

EE: Probably, I don't know

EE: Now then, the first part of being a stronger person is to actually become physically stronger,

EE: I expect you to begin every single day from now on with sixty pushups, sit ups, chin ups, and about a five mile run.

EE: That should be a good set up to condition you for harder routines,

aT: i DON'T THINK I CAN DO MOST OF THAT

EE: Are you talking back to me?

aT: nO, iM SORRY

aT: oR, nO, i MEAN YES

aT: i MEAN, i HAVE BROKEN LEGS SO I CANT DO MOST STUFF LIKE THAT

EE: Broken legs aren't an excuse, there are plenty of exercisers you can do while crippled

EE: Besides, how'd you even break your legs in the first place, fall down a flight of stairs

aT: wELL, eRR

aT: vRISKA SENT ME OFF A CLIFF

EE: Holy heck in a hand-basket, she pushed you off a cliff?

aT: nOT QUITE

aT: sHE MIND CONTROLLED ME, aND MADE ME WALK OFF

EE: That's preposterous

EE: Humans can't mind control people

aT: uHH,,,BUT I'M NOT A HUMAN THOUGH

EE: Stop lying to me, of course you are

EE: The first time was funny

EE: The second time got old really fast,

EE: The third time was just plain irritating

EE: Do you want to try and see what happens the fourth time one of you tries to trick me

aT: ,,,UH,,,NO IM SORRY

EE: Yeah, well, whatever

EE: So you say she pushed you off a cliff,

EE: Why?

aT: wELL,,,UHH

aT: ,,,

aT: tHAT'S IT, i'M NOT GOING TO STICK UP FOR HER ANYMORE, sHE IS JUST REALLY MEAN

EE: ...She pushed you off a cliff because she's mean...

EE: I wish I had friends that interesting

EE: Still, that gives me a brilliant idea

aT: ,,,uHHH

EE: Since you're too much of a wimp to strengthen your body, you're going to strengthen your character

EE: She pushed you off a cliff and broke your legs?

EE: Return the favor.

EE: An eye for an eye and all that

aT: uHH,,,I DON'T THINK I WANT TO DO THAT

EE: ...Alright, I'll humor you

EE: Why not?

aT: wELL, hURTING OTHER TROLLS IS BAD

EE: For a second there, I thought you had a good argument,

EE: Firstly, who taught you something as stupid as that

EE: Hurting people is neither good or bad, if you gotta do it, you shrug and do it

aT: aND,,,UHH,,,I'M KINDA SCARED OF HER

EE: Alright, whatever your name is, listen closely;

EE: She's gonna look a whole lot less scary when she's lying paralyzed on the ground a hundred feet below you

aT: mY NAME IS TAVROS

EE: And I'm Evan,

EE: And I swear, if you try to convince me that you're an alien,

EE: I'm going to find you, and break your arms, so they don't feel left out

aT: ,,,PLEASE DON'T DO THAT

EE: I probably wont if you don't irritate me any more than your weakness already does

EE: Now then, are you going to brainstorm and find the nearest cliff you can throw her off

aT: wE'RE HIDING INSIDE A METEOR BASE FROM JACK, tHERE ARE NO CLIFFS

EE: ...Do I have to state the obvious, throw her down a flight of stairs then, take a sledgehammer to her in her sleep, break her spine with a door,

EE: Figure it out yourself, it's not hard

aT: bESIDES, i PROBABLY CAN'T DEFEAT HER ANYWAY, sHE'S REALLY STRONG AND TALENTED

EE: That's not a problem, get the jump on her, slip drugs in her food, empty a bucket of grease down a staircase, tie tripwires inside doorways, tie her shoes together

aT: i DON'T THINK I EVEN WANT TO DO ANY OF THAT TO HER

aT: aND I,,,UHH,,,DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ME TO HURT MY FRIENDS

EE: Why not?

EE: She seems like a pretty awful person, all things considered,

EE: I won't and can't force you to do anything, but you should really take this moment to evaluate your life,

EE: Are you happy being a doormat that gets pushed off cliffs and defends the people that pushed him off?

EE: Are you happy having those people think of you as a useless waste of space?

EE: Are you happy with being too weak willed to even think about taking action about it?

EE: ...Think about it, whatever your name was,

EE: I don't really care what you do, but if you're tired of being a worthless doormat, I've given you plenty of ways to change your lot in life,

EE: Where you go from here, is entirely up to you.

- **EnragedExtremist [EE]** ceased pestering **adiosToreador** -

Evan exited the conversation, satisfied that he gave the pacifistic coward something to think about. He didn't really care what the fake alien did, and Evan certainly doubted he'd have the character and moral integrity to actually do anything. Once a coward, always a coward.

Still, he just went ahead with the Serket girl's strange demands out of sheer curiosity and a desire to kill time, more than anything else. It wasn't as if the other fellow would actually take anything he said to heart.

After all, his brilliant advice had failed to fix Chester and Chris, and he'd even pulled out all the stops for them. Slideshows, lectures, demonstrations, Q and A sessions. This was just him half-assedly rambling at a total stranger, and making assumption after assumption about his life.

Still, gazing out at the lava beneath his feet, he idly wondered if anything that he'd said would have any effect...

XXXXX

Upon a dim meteor, deep within the veil, an orange blooded troll sat behind his husktop, nervously tapping a robotic foot.

Tavros Nitram was wracked with indecision. Out of the blue, some odd human had began yelling at him through pesterchum. Furthermore, it was revealed that Vriska had sent the human. Why? To torment him further than she already did?

He weakly glanced downwards at his metal legs. She had already taken so much from him, and despite the understanding they had come to, she seemed to want yet more.

He never pretended to fully understand her interest in him. Apparently it had something to do with their ancient Alternian ancestors, and whatever they had gotten upto. Still, all that meant nothing. He had heard only brief snippets about his ancestor, the Summoner, but what he did know was that he was a revolutionary, a fighter for freedom, a leader of trolls, ...a hero.

Wistfully breaking a faint sad smile, he leaned back in his chair. He was no hero. Vriska was right, the... _Evan fellow_ was right. He was weak, he was pathetic, and he was spineless.

Now the Evan human was pushing him to take revenge on her. To avenge his own wounds, as well as all the innocent lives that the cerulean blood had taken over the sweeps. To perhaps, take a step towards fulfilling his ancestor's legacy.

Gritting his teeth, he sighed. It was impossibly hard to think about. Every-time he thought he had come to a conclusion, thoughts of better times with Vriska floated, unbidden, into his mind. Their thrilling adventures in the early days of FLARP, before the...incident. Their later plundering of treasures in the medium, working together for the first time in...a long time.

Even when he managed to push those aside, doubts came to replace them. Even if he tried to fight her, even if he mustered the resolve and the courage, he simply wouldn't win. Vriska was an experienced killer. Utterly ruthless and alternatingly cold and sadistic, she had slain many trolls, both in games of FLARP, as well as simply hunting down unfortunate trolls to feed her lusus. She was no stranger to taking lives, and was rightly feared on Alternia.

He was a weak cripple that never even tried to take lives in FLARP. Even with his new-found metal legs, courtesy of the odd blue-blooded troll, Equius, he was utterly no match for her. Worse still, she was a gog-tier, he was not.

That particular thought brought back even worse memories...

Even at her dying pleading and insistence, he couldn't bring himself to kill her then. What hope was there now? Sighing, he rested his hands on his metal legs, finding the coolness of the metal quite pleasant.

Perhaps, he thought, he would contact her. Maybe then, he could figure something out.

Just then, as he stewed in indecision, his pesterchum beeped. With sudden trepidation, he opened the chat window.

 **-arachnidsGrip [aG]** began pestering **adiosToreador -** [1]

aG: Tavros, your stupidity sometimes surprises even me.

aG: The next time you decide to gush at an alien girl...

aG: Make sure her chat client isn't being holographically projected for all to see, ok?

….

XXXXX

Tavros stared at the empty screen in a mixture of burning anger and shame. Vriska had organized Jack's creation? So that she could have a worthy adversary? What on Alternia was she thinking? She was even entirely unrepentant about it, and still thought she could defeat the monster she'd created at any moment.

Worse, he thought back with embarrassment, she had seen him talk to Jade. He had made some...questionable statements, back when he was still brimming with false confidence and bravado.

Afterwards, he thought little of it, as Jade was a nice human, and wouldn't hold it against him. Vriska on the other hand, had wasted no time in tearing into him, and ripping his self-esteem to shreds.

His hands shaking, he suddenly stood up, pushing away from the table. Glancing at the door, he had made a desision. Vriska intended to leave the safety of the meteor. She planned to fight Jack... She was going to die, and lead him right to them all.

With a heavy heart, he knew that this was something he could never allow.

' _But how could I possibly fight her_ ', a dejected voice in his head muttered sadly.

He paused in thought, before looking up again, the light of a plan burning in his eyes. The Evan human had given him much to think about, after all, and many good ideas...

Vriska thought him weak, cowardly, spineless...he was going to show her just how wrong she was...

 **A/N: So, the [1] bit represents a chunk of text I somewhat paraphrased from MSPA, mainly due to it showing the start of the main conversation with Tavros and Vriska, where she reveals her involvement with Jack, and drives Tavros to fight her. Again, that part is only vaguely mine, and the non-paraphrased parts are credited to Hussie.**

 **Anyway, I thank you all so much for reading, I hope you all review, as it greatly encourages me to write faster, and I hope you all have an excellent Day/Night/Whatever.**

 **P.S,** **Ebrietas is a BloodBorne reference. Given the lovecraftian themes involved with the noble circle of the horrorterrors, I couldn't resist.**


	35. Act II: Chapter 10

_**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back!**_

 _ **First off, I would like to apologise for the massive wait time. I honestly have no idea what I was thinking when I said there would be no delays. Suffice to say that I am extremely busy with stuff this year, and this past month has been the most brutal one yet. This story is far from dead, but I just want to put out that I don't have anywhere near as much time to work on it as I wish I did. Combined with writer's block, and the distractions of the internet, and we get such a long wait time. Again, I am really sorry for that.**_

 _ **As always, I own nothing save the OC's, and I hope you enjoy. This is, after all, the last chapter before the excrement hits the ventilation device...**_

Deep in the vast darkness of the veil, within a cavernous meteor laboratory, a pair of trolls lounged together in a room of husk-top computers.

Reclining in his chair, violet cape lazily draped over it's back, Eridan Ampora remarked, "no wway no wway ...you and vvris"

His jade blooded companion delicately sighed, "Yes Eridan As Difficult As It Is To Believe Myself And Vriska Were Once... involved In A Flushed Relationship"

Eridan's jaw still hung open, the concept utterly unfathomable to him, "vvris. in a flushed relationship. howwww" he asked, bewildered.

Kanaya shrugged, "It Ended Not Too Long After It Began, So As For The 'How', It Would Seem Not Particularly Well" Thinking back on the relationship, she stared intently at the floor for a few moments, prompting her new moirail to ask,

"err, kan are you alright"

She glanced up at him sharply, breaking out of her melancholy remembrance, she sighed deeply and replied, "Yes... I Suppose I Just Am Feeling Rather Worn Out Right Now,"

Eridan nodded, "i knoww howw you feel theres practically no spoor slime left for any of our recuperacoons and wwhat little is left's bein hoarded by kar" rubbing his eyes, he added, "i dont think ivve slept since wwe entered this stupid session"

"Well Karkat Needs The Spoor To Keep Gamzee Under Control You Know How He Gets When Hes No Longer Under The Influence" Kanaya replied, grimly adding, "I Am Certain We All Remember What He Did To The Black King"

The fish troll opposite her grimaced, remembering the brutal carnage their docile clown companion had wrought upon the terrified Black King. He knew that the land-dwelling high-bloods were particularly mentally unstable, but to see it in person, was utterly horrifying, even to the troll that had held the blood soaked title of 'Orphaner' for so many sweeps.

"yeah" he slowly muttered, "kar can havve all the slime he wwants just so long as he keeps his juggalo friend under control, last thin wwe need is a highblood tearin the place up"

He could have sworn Kanaya had muttered something under her breath just then, but he failed to catch her on it. Mentally shrugging, he asked, "so is there anything else you wwant to get done or are wwe just goin to keep sittin here and wwait until wwe fuse wwith the chairs"

Standing up, the jade-blood nodded, "Actually Yes There Is"

Hunching over, and entering a series of commands into the husk-top, she continued, "I intended to deal with the matriorb and rebirth a new mother grub when Jack was dealt with, but it has uncaptchalogued itself."

Eridan was certainly not an unobservant oaf, so he knew full well what she meant. Kanaya's fetch-modus worked on the principles of fate and stuff, so items captchalogued would stay in her inventory until she was _supposed_ to use them. For the matriorb, the unhatched egg that housed the last Mother Grub in existence, the final hope to rebuild their species, to appear now, meant only one thing. Kanaya was supposed to hatch it right there and then.

She withdrew the grey, spiky egg and gently cradled it in her arms. Turning back to him, she continued, "It Has Become Clear That The Egg Needs To Be Hatched Now, Within The Meteor Itself, Will You Help Me Eridan?"

He sharply stood up and nodded, "of course kan"

Together, they walked to the door. As Kanaya fumbled with holding the matriorb and pressing the small door control panel, Eridan leaned in, and opened it for her. Giving a brief nod of appreciation, she stepped into the dim hall, her companion close behind.

Just before they disappeared into the gloom of the corridor, Eridan remarked, "you knoww it kinda fits that im doin this wwhat wwith bein the prince of hope and all"

As they reached the translocator pad that led into the depths of the laboratory, she replied, bemused, "I'm Sure It Does. Just Try Not To Break It, Oh Prince Of Hope"

Eridan's defensive reply was cut off as she stepped onto the engraved metal disk, and vanished with a flash of white light, that for a few moments, chased away the lingering shadows...

XXXXX

Elsewhere within the space rock's depths, an exceptionally muscular blue-blood and his petite companion made their way down a stairwell.

Glancing at her tall moirail, Nepeta cheerfully murmured, "hey equius?"

"MMMMMMMM?" Came the throaty rumble of her silent partner,

"i was wondering," she began, "what do you think of the humans?"

Descending a few more steps in companionable silence, Equius thoughtfully replied, "...I think the ones I have talked to are quite different from each other, much like you and I, in a way"

Gazing at the softly flickering lighting, he mused, "I have little good to say of their society though, they allow the common rabble to rise above their stations, such a practice can only lead to ill results"

Nepeta simply shook her head slowly. She had long since grown used to Equius's ideas about how things should work, and knew that there was nothing that any-troll could do to change his mind. At least he was reasonably good to those beneath him on the hemospectrum, and never went out of his way to intentionally torment other trolls.

For that, at least, she was thankful.

As they descended further, Equius asked, "Are you certain that you wish to be doing this, Nepeta, I do not want to compel you to partake in an activity that would bring you boredom and misery"

She shrugged and beamed at him, "i'm in this with you," she reassured, "i don't mind doing this at all, besides what could gamz33 want to do that wouldn't be fun?"

Equius sighed, the high-blood had never taken his position with any degree of seriousness, and he had great doubts that this experience was going to be any different.

As they reached the bottom of the stairwell, and he reached for the small door control, excersizing great control as not to break it, a curious realization struck him.

Gamzee had seemed quite different in their last conversation. Perhaps, though he did not dare to hope, the violet blooded troll had finally accepted his responsibilities as a superior high-blood.

He then mentally scoffed at the thought. The high-blood was simply not capable of being serious. It was not in his nature. Once upon a time, many sweeps ago, when a younger Equius near begged Gamzee to pretend to be a real high-blood and boss him around, the violet blood failed to do even that.

Simply put, he sincerely doubted this was going to be anything more than an attempt from the purple juggalo to cheer him up, perhaps due to the aradia-bot explosion not too long ago.

The only other option, was that Gamzee had somehow finally grown up and become a serious and brutal high-blood, and obviously, that was something that could not possibly happen.

His earlier excitement dimming under the cold light of logic, Equius opened the door, and stepped into the room at the bottom of the stairs...

XXXXX

Within another section of the space-rock, a bull-horned troll crept stealthily through the darkened corridors, his metal legs breaking the tomb-like silence in the hall.

Trying to keep his breathing under control, Tavros went over the plan again in his mind. Vriska was not only responsible for creating the winged horror that now hunted them, but she also intended to try to fight it, and thus lead it right to them.

This was completely unacceptable, and if he didn't know any better, he would have thought the spider troll was insane. As of his last conversation with her, however, it appeared that she was anything but. How someone could be so in control of their mental faculties, and yet decide that fighting a near immortal, teleporting, killing machine was a good idea, was beyond him.

His initial plan was quickly scrapped the second it fully hit him just what he was about to do. Thus, he simply tried to contact Terezi. As a paragon of Justice and punishment, she was bound to see the danger in Vriska's plans, and go forth and arrest the cerulean pirate before anyone got really hurt...

But she wasn't answering her pesterchum so Tavros now found himself in a dimly lit hall, about to face one of the most dangerous trolls on the meteor. Alone. This could not possibly end badly.

Still, he had no intention of facing her head on.

A few moments of creeping forward brought him to the lip of a very large staircase, that abruptly descended downwards, deep into the cavernous bowels of the laboratory. Here, was where he would set his trap...

Uncaptchaloging several trash filled black bags that he had brought from the common room, he piled them against a wall, and awkwardly crawled into the pile.

Immediately, the rank odour of twelve trolls worth of refuse assailed his nostrils, causing him to nearly gag. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and tried not to breath through his nose. This was a perfect plan, and he would be darned if some stupid garbage would be his downfall.

Manoeuvring himself into a position where he could sort of stand, he slowly parted the bags from his face a tiny bit, to allow himself a small hole to see (and breathe) through.

From his makeshift blind, he could see the entire top of the stairs. The corridor was quite narrow, and about three trolls could fit in it shoulder to shoulder. If he wasn't mistaken, the room Vriska had claimed as her own, would be somewhere further down the hall, and to get to the main outside platform, she would need to pass right by him.

Inside his pile of garbage, Tavros smirked, he was so clever. He'd show that human bully who was 'weak', he'd show Vriska who was 'spineless'. He'd show them all.

Now, all that remained was to bait the trap.

He fumbled around for a few moments, pushing the bags far enough away to create a small pocket where he could place a husktop. Uncaptchaloging his device, he opened his chat client, and contacted Vriska...

XXXXX

At the same time, a cerulean blooded troll was idly sitting at her husktop, watching the progression of a windsock hatted human as he made his way across Skaia. Just then, her observations were interrupted by the telltale noise of a pesterchum notification.

Annoyed, she muttered something under her breath and clicked on the glowing little yellow icon. To her immense surprise, the fool that dared to disturb her was none other than toreadumbass. For several moments, she sat, gaping, at the message he had sent.

It was so unlike him, that she briefly entertained the thought that someone else was using his account. She narrowed her eyes and frowned thoughtfully.

No... it couldn't be anyone else. His idiotically pathetic typing quirk was difficult to sucessfully reproduce, and this particular sample of writing was so accurate that it could be no-troll else. Somehow, Tavros had found it within himself to...actually stand up to her.

It was kinda adorable, actually. Like a declawed grub, trying and failing to run away, only managing to roll itself over into an even more vulnerable position.

Still, such insolence practically _deserved_ to be ripped to pieces. Grinning maliciously, she began to type...

 **-adiosToreador** began pestering **arachnidsGrip [aG]** **-**

aT: aLRIGHT VRISKA, THIS IS IT,

aT: iVE TOLERATED YOUR ABUSE FOR TOO LONG,

aT: yOU HAVE DONE A LOT OF EVIL AND MEAN STUFF,

aT: bUT THIS IS THE LAST STRAW,

aT: i CANNOT NOT ALLOW YOU TO GO AND FIGHT JACK,

aT: yOU'LL LEAD HIM RIGHT TO US AND DOOM US ALL

aT: ...

aT: ,,,UH, aRE YOU THERE,

aT: i HOPE YOU HAVEN'T LEFT YET

aT: ...

aT: ...

aT: oH NO I GUESS SHE IS GONE,

aT: sTILL, i GUESS I WAS RATHER BRAVE AND CONFIDENT TO DO ALL THIS,

aT: sO IT WASN'T A WASTE OF TIME

aG: Really Tavros?

aG: This is seriously your attempt at thre8ning me?

aG: If it wasn't so utterly pathetic, I'd say it was adora8le

aT: yOU,,,UH,,,READ THAT LAST PART,

aG: It was completely stupid of you to type that, pupa.

aG: For a moment there, I almost thought you were genuinely serious

aG: YOU, honestly think you can stop ME?

aG: Don't make me laugh, Tavros. You're not funny.

aT: i,,,I,,,I'M SERIOUS VRISKA, i WILL STOP YOU,

aG: That's cute. With what, might I ask?

aG: Your stupid lance thing?

aG: New Majjyk powers you've just discovered?

aG: A hidden arsenal of martial skills you've 8een holding 8ack this entire time?

aT: i'M BEING SERIOUS VRISKA, i REALLY DON'T WANT TO FIGHT, pLEASE DON'T DO THIS,

aG: Of course you don't want to fight me, pupa, I'd destroy you.

aG: ::::)

aG: Out of some sort of pity, perhaps, I'll tell you what,

aG: You stay out of my way, and I'll go kick jack's stupid canine ass, and I'll forget you ever challenged me.

aG: Especially from me, I think that's a generous offer.

aT: ,,,I,,,CAN'T DO THAT, vRISKA, i HAVE TO STOP YOU,

aG: That's a shame,

aG: You just grew a spine, and now you're forcing me to rip it out. Still, you 8ring this on yourself.

aG: I'm going outside to hunt for Jack. If you want to stop me, you'll have to fight me somewhere along the way.

aG: And for wh8ver it's worth, Tavros, Your new-found confidence is still as fake as Eridan's 'science wand'.

 **-arachnidsGrip [aG] ceased pestering adiosToreador -**

With that final crushing put-down, Vriska exited the conversation and closed pesterchum. Thinking back on Tavros's amusingly defiant actions, she snorted in puzzlement.

Just _what_ had gotten into that useless imbecile?

Captchaloguing her husk-top, and scooting back in her chair, she sharply stood up. Proudly standing to her full height, she shook the wrinkles from her grey overcoat, flicked her long dark hair over her shoulder, and fearlessly walked through the door and into the dark hallway beyond.

Confidently walking forwards, her boot-steps echoing loudly in the quiet of the dim space-rock, she smirked. She was, after all, the most dangerous troll on the meteor. Nothing, especially not toreadumbass, could possibly hope to threaten her.

Like a cold and clinical predator, she drove forwards, into the enveloping darkness of the corridor.

XXXXX

Elsewhere, upon a Land of Frost and Frogs, within a damaged spherical structure, a young girl frantically shook a prone boy...

Groggily, Chester slowly returned to consciousness... He couldn't see anything, and his limbs could barely move, he felt like he was deep underwater or something. Dimly, he heard a girl's voice, distant and echoing, as if from the end of a long tunnel.

Trying to ignore the throbbing of his head, he shakily tried to open his eyes.

Immediately assailed by a flood of light and indistinct colours and hazy shapes, he regretted his decision, and snapped them shut again. He rested like that on his back for a few more moments, trying to gather what remained of his thoughts.

One thing he noticed, was that someone kept shaking him, which made his pounding headache even worse. It was probably just his grandpa, telling him he missed the school-bus or something. Chester wanted to tell him to stop, but he couldn't quite grasp the English language just then, so he settled for muttering an incoherent burble of noise.

Thankfully, the shaking stopped. He was happy for that.

His grandpa's annoying voice remained though, to his displeasure. He just wanted to go back to sleep, couldn't the old buzzard see that?

"...chester? ...can you hear me?" the voice called, still rather indistinct.

Sleepily, he frowned. Grandpa never called him by his name, instead using terms like 'boy', and 'you', to refer to him. Something wasn't quite right here.

Flinching from a particularly nasty spike of pain, Chester frowned, if this bloody migraine would go away he could actually begin thinking about things, and bring most of his higher mental processes 'online'.

The voice came again, intensifying his headache, "...hey, can you hear me? ...do something if you're conscious..."

Against his better wishes, he tried to comply with his grandpa's strange request. Shifting his weight slightly, he tried to open his eyes again. This time, he was moderately more prepared for the brightness of the room, and despite the intensity of the sudden light, he kept them open, until eventually some things gradually came into focus.

He was in some kind of dim room, that was really big. It didn't seem like his room at all, or anywhere in his house in fact. Where was he?

There was an indistinct figure leaning over him, still somewhat shaking him with an outstretched arm. Chester mentally frowned. His grandpa seemed...taller. Something wasn't quite right here, he just couldn't figure out what.

Slowly, with a mental effort that felt like crushed nails were being drug through his head, his vision slowly cleared. Blinking spots out of his eyes, Chester saw that the figure in-front of him wasn't his grandpa at all, but rather a concerned looking girl.

At least she'd stopped shaking him, so there was that.

Still, staring at her, he wondered just what had gotten into Jade, she seemed pretty rattled...

Wait, he stopped. How did he know that name? He didn't know this person... right?

Seemingly with that first nugget of remembrance, his brain began to fill in the pieces of the hazy past. He remembered getting the game, playing with Evan. The meteor. The medium. Fighting the Black King. ...Dying. Coming back. Arriving on this snow-world. Going into the tower. ...A green flash, falling and...nothing.

Finally speaking, he coughed out, "...Jade?"

Her concern faded somewhat, and she smiled, relived. "are you alright? you took a nasty hit to the head, and for a moment there i was really worried" she mumbled quickly

Chester weakly smiled back, inwardly cursing the pounding in the back of his skull, "I'm alright. I suppose. All things considered."

Glancing around the crumpled and devastated wreckage of what he vaguely remembered as Jade's attic tower thing, he asked, "What...What happened? I can't quite remember."

Jade brushed it off, instead asking, "are you sure you're alright, nothing's broken?"

He frowned, briskly muttering "I'm quite alright Jade. Seriously. What happened? The last thing I remember is a green light and...a feeling of...falling."

Glancing at the ground, her relieved smile fading away completely, Jade grumbled, "that's what i intend to find out..."

Before Chester could enquire as-to what she was even talking about, the girl stood up from his side, and agitatedly stomped off into the cavernous depths of the spherical chamber, heading in the direction of a weakly flickering green light...

For several moments, the dull ache in his head momentarily forgotten, he stared after her. ' _What on Earth has gotten into her?_ ' he mentally shrugged.

Girls were confusing creatures... Well, damn near every human he had ever run into was an irrational, stupid, and exceedingly unpredictable creature. He never really understood how _anyone_ worked, even his only two friends were enigmas to him

Chester still marvelled about how his species hadn't driven itself into extinction through sheer stupidity. Grumbling internally about his blasted head, he slowly staggered to his feet, and began to shuffle across the room towards the rough direction where Jade had disappeared.

After several moments of ponderous, sluggish, movement, he rounded a shelving unit to see Jade holding onto a sobbing green sprite, that oddly seemed to resemble her.

Not really sure how to react to such a strange situation, (and flinching at the painful brightness of the sprite), Chester stayed back, and leaned against the shelf. Once again, he cursed his lack of social prowess.

Moments later, the two girls' hushed conversation turned louder, as the sprite began to bawl, and Jade went from soft, calming muttering, to semi-aggressive shaking of the sprite, and illegible words that didn't entirely sound friendly.

The situation escalated to a point where Jade outright shouted, "shut up! stop being such a damn crybaby! really, we both had the same exact experiences, and i'm managing to keep my head up, despite all the bad stuff."[1]

Even more angered by the sprite's continued bawling and disregard, Jade slapped the sprite. The sobbing stopped, and the sprite glanced slowly up at Jade, with a face so much like her own.

"...you hit me..." The ...Jade...Sprite said quietly, in disbelief.

Jade sighed, "im sorry, you drove me to it with your constant whining." Glancing tiredly at the ground, she continued quietly "you didn't even experience the worst of it, when jack got first guardian powers, he became able to kill anyone, wherever they were. he became completely unbeatable. that's why we brought you back, you have the same powers through Bec, you can fight him. you can stop him from hurting anyone else," Jade pleaded, "please, help us, you're the only one who can."

Jadesprite's eyes widened in fear, at the mere mention of Jack. Slowly, she began to back (err...float?) away, hesitantly gazing at her surroundings, as if anticipating a killer monster to pounce from the darkness at any moment.

"i...i can't." The sprite choked out, on the verge of breaking into tears again,

Jade impatiently rushed forward and grabbed Jadesprite's arms roughly. "like hell you can't!" she spat, "it's not a question of what you can do, but what you must do. we all have our parts to play in this, and we don't exactly have the luxury of complaining."

This sent Jadesprite once again into hysterical sobbing, inter-cut with faint, occasional murmurs of "i'm too weak," and "i can't"

This did not please Jade one bit.

She resumed thrashing and shaking her counterpart, demanding that the bawling immediately cease, and incoherently yelling. Wisely remembering what happened at his school whenever the strange beings called girls fought, Chester cautiously backed away behind the shelf, safely out of the firing line.

It was never a bad idea to let other people solve their problems by themselves. After-all, he'd been doing it since childhood. What was their excuse?

Meanwhile, Jadesprite had seemingly had enough of being smacked around by her human counterpart, and with a really flimsy push, managed to shove Jade away.

Before anyone could react, a green flash of light engulfed the spherical space. When it cleared moments later, Jadesprite was gone.

For several long, awkward moments of tomb-like silence, Jade stood there, motionlessly staring at the spot that Jadesprite had formerly occupied. With a sudden burst of motion, she sunk to her knees, and buried her face in her hair. She wasn't quite crying, but she was slightly shaking.

Behind the shelf, Chester really wasn't sure how to react. The damnable flash had caused his headache to flare up again, and now he had to deal with an upset companion.

He really hated dealing with people. Particularly those he had grown to like. Glancing at her shaking body, he anxiously frowned, mind buzzing with a mess of jumbled thoughts, ' _What was he supposed to say? Should he do something? Girls needed their space, right? Maybe? What if they didn't? He didn't know what to do... What would Evan do? ...Actually, scratch that, not a good train of thought. What would Chris do?...not really applicable either...and highly illegal. Oh gosh, now she was making quiet sobbing noises. That was bad. Right? He really needed to do something...but what if that made it worse? ...but what if it became worse on it's own?...unless it didn't...'_

His brain torn between an incoherent mess of mental gibberish, and a droning migraine, Chester failed to notice how he slowly shuffled towards the sitting girl, and crouched beside her.

When he finally returned to his senses, and became mostly aware of his surroundings, he realized he was crouching right. beside. her.

This was single-handedly the most anxiety-inducing moment of his life.

Worse still, he was awkwardly patting her on the back...

That was about the last thing he was able to clearly process before the mental orchestra of confusion returned. After yet more confused mental babbling, he was snapped back to his senses when he realized she was saying something.

Quietly, she slowly muttered under her breath, "i hate that that happened...sorry about that"

Not sure how to react, Chester settled for yanking his hand back as fast as humanely possible, and muttering something along the lines of, "Ummmyea...uhuh"

He felt that suitably conveyed all possible dialogue options at once, and was not in any way offensive, or unoffensive.

Parting the hair from her face, Jade continued, "it's just that...i don't even know... she's just so useless, and she made me so mad."

' _Hmmm_ '...he thoughtfully muttered in his mind. The logical side of him was beginning to see some vestiges of rationality in her actions... He was slowly beginning to genuinely understand where she was coming from... Wasn't it wonderful to deal with people that actually did things because of reasons, as opposed to 'why not'?

It seemed as if she was upset with the sprite because Jadesprite was uncooperative and useless. But... that was kinda obvious. There had to be something more to it.

In the meanwhile, he awkwardly gave an intrigued nod, and gestured for her to continue. Perhaps, if he figured out why she was so bent out of shape, everything would go back to normal... Now he just needed to figure out why people got angry at things... Easier said than done.

Maybe if he tried to put himself in her shoes, so to speak. Hmmm... So, the sprite was continuously whiny and useless. He could definitely see how that could get anyone annoyed and "set off", but not quite to Jade's extent. Something else was at play here...

Thoughtfully gazing at the floor, he pondered the problem. He just had no idea how people worked. (His blasted super-brain didn't seem too helpful in this regard either.)

Then, as Jade wistfully said, "i just don't see how anyone could be so selfish and cowardly... and to think she's basically a clone of...me"

It suddenly hit him like a kilogram of bricks. '. _..What if...Jade is upset because...the sprite basically is her...and...she finds the comparison frightening and insulting... because she dosen't act at all like that...or something_ ' he mentally puzzled out.

Yes. This had to be it. ...Right?

Girls were weird.

Still, he had a reasonable working hypothesis for her upset mood. Now he just had to figure out how to cheer her up.

Taking a shot in the dark, he delicately commented, "You know that the ...sprite thing likely is not a perfectly intact version of you. Right?"

She turned to him, very much upset, but also somewhat curious.

Feeling like (Or, rather, desperately hoping) he was on the right track, Chester continued, rapidly adding, "Mentally. I mean. This version of you was prototyped from a corpse. One that had very traumatic final moments as well. It seems logical that her behaviour would be... difficult and unstable."

Jade nodded thoughtfully.

Sighing, she replied, "i guess so, it's just that even then, we don't have time for her problems and issues, just like we don't have time for mine or yours."

Gesturing at her spectagoggles, she lamented, "everyone has to pull their own weight if we're gonna survive. even her."

Chester agreed. "I can't argue with that. It's a reasonable expectation to have of people." shrugging, he then added, "It's a shame that so few people can actually live up to even the most basic of expectations though."

Jade disagreed, "you can't really judge all people like that though, how many have you even met in your whole life? a hundred? a thousand? there are..." Her eyes widened and she suddenly fell quiet, awkwardly resuming after a few moments, "...there _were_ billions. each and every one not too different from you or me."

He frowned, it was annoying to be wrong. That was partially why he liked to rant to Evan and Chris, neither knew or cared enough to call him out on things. Still, Jade seemed to be... somewhat better, at least.

"Regardless." he tried to shift the topic, "What happened with the sprite was in no way your fault. You don't need to get upset over it. We'll figure out another way of dealing with Jack."

Quietly shifting her gaze across the room, Jade murmured, "i'm not sure there is one..."

Chester tried to smile encouragingly, (and trying not to show how afraid he was), "There is one. There has to be." with faux humour, he added, "If not. We'll make a way. Now, how about we try something else. Talking to the trolls perhaps..."

Jade's optimistic smile slowly returned to her face, "i could try contacting rose again," she suggested.

Uncaptchaloging his laptop, Chester nodded, "I'll see if the purple guy I talked to is around. I'm sure we can brainstorm a way to defeat Jack."

Jade grinned fully and, despite his crushing pessimism about their odds of survival, he smiled back. Maybe, things would turn out alright...

 _ **A/N: So, in light of recent events, I really can't say how long the next chapter will take. It'll definitely be a big one, which will lengthen proceedings. The third week of May seems like a reasonable estimate for now, but it could take a week or two longer. As for the [1] bit in the text, it marks a bit of text that is mostly taken from the comic itself, as I can't really find a better way to say that part. Obviously, whatever Hussie has directly written belongs to him, and even the rest of this story is borrowing from his work in one way or another.**_

 _ **Anyway, I really hope you folks review, as I immensely appreciate it. Thank you for sticking with me, and I'll see you all later.**_


	36. Act II: Chapter 11

_**A/N: Hello readers. After an exuberantly long wait, I have returned. Firstly I would like to really apologize for the wait times, but I am just so busy these days that writing is...well, not difficult, but just a lot more time consuming, and I don't really have time to burn anymore, so yeah...it just takes way longer. Plus this is the largest chapter in act II so far, and among the top 3 largest overall. So, I hope the wait was worth it.**_

 _ **Suffice it to say, that in this chapter, most events on the meteor will be wrapped up... one way or another.**_

 _ **Without further ado, I own nothing save the OC's and the Winnebago, please review for faster updates, and I hope you all enjoy.**_

Upon a rocky meteor, deep within the veil, a pair of trolls entered a dimly lit room with anxious excitement...

Equius slowly took a few steps into the cavernous room, that was perhaps some sort of genetics laboratory, before slowly puttering to a stop. His anxiety about the meeting had returned in overwhelming force. A small bead of sweat materialized on his brow.

The fact that the room seemed deserted, and was very dark, was utterly lost on him.

He was broken out of his funk when a small hand slipped itself around his right arm. Glancing down, he saw his petite companion, giving him a reassuring nod. No words were needed.

Equius smiled, he could do this. He _would_ do this. The high-blood would not be disappointed in him.

With her hand still gently holding his bicep, they went deeper into the room.

XXXXX

Elsewhere, a violet-caped hipster and a red-skirted jade-blood unceremoniously exited a teleporter pad.

Acquainting himself with the surprisingly well-lit corridor they found themselves in, and brushing near invisible wrinkles from his cape, Eridan muttered,

"do you evven knoww wwhat to do here kan"

His companion, still cradling the spiked ball that was the most precious object of their entire species, absentmindedly replied, "I Am Quite Certain Of Our Goals Eridan, We Will Hatch The Matriorb In The Core Of The Meteor And Save Our Race"

Her attention remained on the ground at her feet as she paced forwards, vigilantly watching for anything that might cause her to slip and to fall, dashing the only hope of their race's salvation in the process.

Matching his pace to hers, Eridan adjusted his glasses, and asked again,

"but howw are you goin to do that kan, are you sure you knoww exactly howw to hatch it"

Nodding to her, he jokingly added, "i knoww you learned a lot of stuff in the grub cavverns but i doubt your luscus covvered howw to hatch a matriorb inside a giant space rock"

Kanaya paused in her step, and sighed,

"I... may Not Wholly Know The Finer Points Of This Course Of Action..." she quietly confessed, "But That Is Something That We Will Deal With When We Get To It," she finished.

He simply shrugged,

"that sounds an awwful lot like ' _im makin this up as i go along_ ', kan",

"I Would Not Use Those _Exact_ Words..." she slowly trailed off, once more resuming her pace through the corridor.

"...But Your Assertion Is Not Wholly Incorrect", she admitted grudgingly.

Squinting at the featureless door at the end of the passage, still a tauntingly sizable distance away, Eridan asked, "do wwe evven knoww wwhere wwere going"

Still protectively clutching the matriorb, like a luscus guarding her little grub, Kanaya snorted in a rather undignified fashion, "Of Course I Know Where We Are Going Eridan, Raising A Mother Grub Has Never Been Done Under Such Conditions, So To Have The Best Chance, We Must Find The Warmest And Most Secure Place In The Meteor"

Nodding downwards, she continued, "I Surmise That Such A Location Must Clearly Be Somewhere In The Center Of This Meteor"

Eridan nodded thoughtfully, that made sense. Although, there was just one problem with that...

"the meteors not all that explored though kan, wwe dont evven knoww howw many levvels dowwn it goes wwhat if wwe get lost or something" He asked, warily eyeing the approaching door.

"Oh Dear Is The Great And Feared Orphaner Scared Of Getting Lost In A Tiny Space Rock", she gently teased,

Immediately crossing his arms, Eridan scoffed, "as if, evven wwithout my newwfound science wwand im still the most dangerous and dashin troll here, im not afraid of anythin"

Kanaya smiled as she stopped before the door, and nodded for him to get the switch. "Indeed," she responded, "It Is A Relief To Be Accompanied By Such An Accomplished Warrior, Who Knows What Manner Of Foul Monsters May Be Lurking In The Shadowy Depths, Waiting For Us To Lower Our Guard Before They Strike"

Just after hitting the switch, causing the door to open with a pained hydraulic screech, the weight of her casual comment registered with Eridan.

When Eridan's smirk slowly faded, and he lowered a hand to the holster where he kept his newly-gained 'wand', Kanaya allowed herself a small smile. It really was too easy to mess with arrogant trolls.

Still smiling subtly, she entered the dim room beyond the doorway...

XXXXX

Within a _seemingly_ empty genetics laboratory, a confused pair of trolls gazed at the rows of glass tubes around them.

Equius was very baffled and disappointed. This was where the high-blood had demanded he come, and yet, Gamzee was nowhere to be found. Was this some manner of cruel jape?

No, he thought, it was far more likely that the juggalo had simply had one too many of his thinkpan-rotting slime pies, fallen into yet another stupor, and had forgotten about the appointment entirely. To be honest, he was expecting something like this. It seemed like any of the members of his friend group acting in proper accordance with blood rank and tradition was simply not meant to be.

At his side, his petite companion had softly said, "don't worry equius, im sure he's around here somewhere...maybe gamz33 is just running late?"

How he dearly wished to believe that. But, he was not one to take to silly delusions, or other such frivolous and foolish activities that were beneath him.

More for her sake than his own, he cast another disheartened glance over the room.

Everything was the same as when they had entered. The rows of dusty glass tubes remained in the center of the room. At the edges, dim banks of strange husktop-like devices sat on tables, clearly without power. Many of the illumination rods on the ceiling were broken and dark, save for a flickering few. A thick sheet of dust coated every surface in the deathly silent room.

It didn't appear that the high-blood had even been here.

Except... Wait...

In the far side of the room, the dust on the floor had been subtly disturbed.

With curious purpose, Equius set out at a brisk pace towards the disturbance, ignoring his companion's questions. Pacing towards the disturbance on the floor, he knelt by it, and examined it as best he could.

His vision, honed by many sweeps of labouring on painstakingly tiny mechanical parts, could make out a vague outline of a shoe-print. He frowned slightly, that was odd. This lab seemed otherwise abandoned.

If that was the case though, then what was the clearly recent boot-print doing there?

"what is it?", Nepeta whispered, kneeling beside him in the dust.

As Equius explained, and she thoughtfully stared at the ground, both of them missed a pair of purple eyes watching them coldly from the shadows...

XXXXX

Within a lengthy steel corridor, a grey-coated troll girl paced forwards.

Idly scanning her surroundings, Vriska Serket once again ran through her battle-plan to fight Jack. She had no doubts about her abilities to take him, even one on one. After all, she'd practically carried her whole useless team in the Black King fight. If those cowardly idiots were too afraid to help her, then she'd just get things done on her own.

Still, Jack Noir was certainly going to be difficult to find, what with his 'teleporting between two separate sessions on a whim'. But she didn't figure that would be too big of a problem. After all, one only had to follow the trail of destruction the Sovereign Slayer left in his wake.

Then, for whatever reason, her thoughts turned to Tavros and his rather adorable attempts at threatening her.

She snorted derisively. As if their cowardice and uselessness wasn't enough, her co-players now felt the need to try and actively _stop_ her from saving their useless hides. Shaking her head, she concluded that some trolls were just born stupid.

After all, not everytroll could be as brilliant and strong and perfect as she was.

Still, toreadumbass _had_ shown some brief glimpse of backbone during their prior conversation. Perhaps she was giving up on him too early?

...Nah, of course not. He was clearly a snivelling waste of space.

Just ahead, she could see the staircase that led downwards to the landing pad.

While they didn't have any existing options for space transportation, Vriska wasn't overly concerned... She was, after all, a god-tier. God tiers were hardly limited or restricted by mundane things like the cold, bleak, vacuum of deep space.

Just at the lip of the stairwell, she noticed a sizable pile of black bags, filled with what was likely garbage. She curled her nose upwards in disgust.

Was this where Karkat was disposing of it? The landing pad was just down the stairs.

She pinched her brow and sighed in irritation. It seemed that even such simple tasks as ' _dispose of the rubbish to avoid disease and general foul odours'_ , were utterly beyond her companions.

With her disappointment in the remaining dregs of her race reaching a new low, she continued on. The landing pad was just downstairs...

XXXXX

Within a dim laboratory, a pair of trolls had now begun to inspect their surroundings with a slight hint of caution, looking for further traces that they were not the first to arrive there.

Pacing around the room, not quite able to shake the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that things were not as they seemed, Equius huffed in a semi-confrontational manner. Pausing near a bank of monitors, and idly running his gaze over the keyboards, he quietly reflected upon the oddest sense of foreboding that had suddenly hit him.

Troll anatomy was very sophisticated in regards to self-preservation. It had to be, given their borderline death-world of a planet. At that moment, everything from his eyes to his ears to his horns, which were quite sensitive to sudden vibrations and movement in the surrounding air, were giving him a resounding 'all clear'.

However, he just couldn't shake the utterly irrational sense of doom that clung to him like a shroud. Once again, he deeply breathed out. This line of cowardly thinking was suited to weaker trolls, not one such as him, a mighty paragon of the hemospectrum, proud enforcer and zealous servant of the high-bloods.

Glancing over the lab at Nepeta, her blue cap clearly visible against the grey walls, he smiled fondly, and wondered if perhaps he felt this way because he worried for her. She was, after all, far weaker and more fragile than he was, regardless of her regular hunts for dangerous beasts that vastly outweighed and outclassed her.

Turning his analytical gaze back at the row of dusty and unattended monitors and equipment before him, he resumed his scrutiny of them.

There! One of the odd, flat, rectangles with symbol buttons etched in them, showed signs of being disturbed. Unlike it's surrounding brethren, this one was not covered in dust, and instead appeared to have been recently brushed off.

Equius frowned thoughtfully, this was simply growing stranger and stranger.

His next thoughts were shattered by Nepeta's strangled cry of terror...

XXXXX

Nearby, a violet-blooded sea-dweller led his jade-blooded companion through a labyrinthine series of inter-crossing tunnels and halls and chambers.

"i thought you said you kneww wwhere wwe wwere goin kan", Eridan complained, making sure to keep his drawn science wand pointed into the looming, light-devouring darkness of the corridor before him. Earlier Kanaya had brought up some very good points about unknowable monsters and horrors that may or may not be dwelling in the station's unexplored depths.

Eridan had scoffed at such grubish attempts to frighten him.

...until a metallic honking noise echoed from an above vent, causing him to... ahem, behave in a manner most unsuited to his prestigious blood-rank, and squeal like a wriggler, whilst simultaneously firing a beam of brilliant science down the hall, vaporizing a tool cabinet.

He refused to face his companion since then, but he was utterly certain that she wore the same accursed smirk that she had put on a few times previously. He could just about feel it, boring through his head.

"...I Thought That I Knew Where We Were Going As Well" Kanaya slowly replied, "I Must Confess To Not Having Been This Far In Before. I Did Not Think That Reaching The Core Would Have Been This Difficult", she mumbled, sounding apologetic and somewhat ashamed.

Eridan shrugged, "its alright kan evverytroll makes mistakes... wwell except me but... you knoww..." he said, trying to sound supportive and encouraging.

This time, he nearly could _feel_ her eyes roll, somewhere behind him.

"Yes I Understand," She replied, "We Can Not All Be As Flawless As You, Eridan"

For a few moments, Eridan suspiciously bristled at her odd tone of voice, before shrugging and politely accepting the compliment, "wwell thank you kan, i try"

" _Of Course_ ", came her gentle reply from somewhere behind him. The sarcasm, though nearly tangible, went right over his head.

They continued in silence for a few moments, the only sound present in the dim corridor being their echoing footsteps. As he turned his head to scan the corridor for the umpteenth time, a terrified scream echoed down the hallway, coming seemingly from nowhere.

Simultaneously he drew his wand, shakily aiming it into the darkness. Behind him, a soft metallic hum told him that Kanaya's chainsaw was drawn and rotating cautiously. Sparing her a brief glance, he noted that she still protectively held the matriorb with her left hand, while wielding the chainsaw with her right.

Eridan frowned slightly. Because of the unique nature of her inventory system, once objects were uncaptchalogued, they could not be recaptchalogued. This meant that the only hope for their species' survival, was out in the open, and completely reliant on his companion's gentle care for it's protection.

Hardly a comforting thought. Especially if some monster or something rushed them.

They stood there for a few moments, tense and unmoving. After a few moments, when nothing came lunging out of the shadows at them, he lowered his wand a fraction. Kanaya quietly moved forwards, stopping beside him.

"i dont think that wwas my imagination this time kan" He muttered, eyes wild and scanning the darkness ahead.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, she stalked forward, quietly whispering, "No... I Dont Think It Was"

Falling in beside her, he whispered back, "wwhat do you think that wwas"

She faintly shrugged, "I Am Not Certain... But It Sounds... Familiar"

Eridan found himself agreeing. The scream was brief, but...there was something familiar about it. Naturally, all logic and survival instincts pointed to it being nothing more than the luring call of some unspeakable horror, lurking just beyond their vision range. Well, he certainly was not going to fall for it. If whatever it was wanted to eat him, it would have to come to him, in the light, and then face the brunt of his science-wand and Kanaya's chainsaw. They were both far too smart to fall for such a transparent ploy...

It suddenly came again, louder, a shriek of pure agony. It was also far clearer, coming from a side passage to their right. Eridan nearly shot his wand on reflex, but caught himself just in time.

Whipping to face it's direction of origin, he inwardly remarked to himself that this time, it really did sound like someone he knew, he just couldn't quite narrow it down...

Still, if the monster in the dark wanted him off guard, running off on some fool's errand to rescue the supposed 'distressed troll', then it had another thing coming. How stupid did it think they were?

He was distracted from his thoughts when Kanaya exclaimed, "That... That Is Nepeta! She Is In Danger!", and ran into the darkness, chainsaw revved, taking the right passage and disappearing from view.

Nervously glancing around, Eridan realized he really didn't fancy being left alone, and hurriedly followed her into the dim gloom of the hallways...

XXXXX

Nestled safely within a pile of black trash bags, Tavros Nitram watched the upper landing of the staircase through his little peep-hole with growing nervousness.

Where was Vriska? Was she onto him? Was she even coming? Did he set up in the wrong hallway by mistake? They all looked so similar. He tried to shift his position in the tiny space as best he could. Maybe, if he just got a better look down the hallway...

His movement shifted a bag out of it's potion, nearly causing it to fall and break his cover. He immediately froze, and thankfully, it settled down and remained in place.

He released a breath that he didn't realize he was even holding. That could have gone badly. Sighing quietly, Tavros mulled over his plan. Now that it was getting close to the point of no return, it was beginning to seem like more and more of a bad idea.

Who was he kidding, he wasn't a fighter or warrior, Vriska could easily wipe the floor with him if it came to that. Heck, even with the element of surprise on his side, he still might not be able to do much of anything against her.

Glancing hopelessly back at the stairs, he sighed again. There really didn't seem to be any peaceful ways to get out of this situation. Despite his weakness, Vriska couldn't be allowed to go through with her plans, and it regretfully seemed like he was the only troll on the meteor in a position to stop her.

If she was going to be stopped, and the location of the meteor kept safe from the dreaded Sovereign Slayer that hunted them across the session, then it was up to him, and him alone.

Holding his gaze on the top of the stairs, Tavros clenched his fist. He had made up his mind...

...He managed to keep his determined composure for just over a minute, before once again descending into a pit of self-doubt and angst. All of his usual worries and gripes soon returned to bother him.

He wasn't entirely sure of just how long he spent in the smelly heap of trash, but just when he was growing completely discouraged from executing his plan, and begging to suspect that Vriska wasn't even coming, that perhaps she had by-passed him through some-other route, the grey-coated, metal armed figure that was unmistakably Vriska Serket strode confidently into view.

His bloodpusher leapt into his throat. He could practically feel it hammering away in his chest. Wide-eyed, he stared at the physical incarnation of all his fears and torments. She was approaching the stairs, seemingly fooled by his hiding spot. Now was his chance.

Yet, he hesitated. She couldn't actually be fooled by him, right? She was clearly just biding her time, waiting to verbally lash him for his foolishness in trying to trick her. He should just stay silent and still, and avoid her scathing rebukes. Yet, she was just upon the edge of the stairs now, if she reached the landing pad... everyone would die. He couldn't let that happen, but what could he even do about it?

Closing his eyes, Tavros gritted his teeth, and made a decision.

Snapping them open again, he shifted his weight, and leapt out from the pile of trash, scattering bags to the sides. His _intent_ was to give her a big shove, and like the angry bully on pesterchum said, let gravity do the rest.

 _In reality,_ things proved...different. Just as he was almost upon her, Vriska whirled around at the noise, hesitating in sheer bewilderment at her attacker. It was now or never. He thrust his arms out, and hoped that the momentum of his leap would do the rest. Even taken off guard, Vriska was still fast, and as he collided into her, sending her straight towards the edge, she managed to get a firm grasp on his shirt.

Together, they both teetered on the edge of the stairs for a few moments that felt like an eternity. In disbelief, she slowly whispered, "...Tavros?".

Then, with seemingly glacial slowness, they both began to shift towards the edge, and fell.

XXXXX

With grace and speed, Kanaya Maryam sprinted through the tangle of intersecting corridors that made up the bowels of the meteor.

As far as she could tell, she was actually getting closer to the source of the screaming, as opposed to going in the complete opposite direction. Down in the maze of halls, direction was extremely difficult to determine.

Rounding a corner on her left, still holding the warm matriorb egg to her chest, she heard regular footsteps behind her, and assumed that Eridan had decided to follow her. She doubted that the backup would be needed, but she'd seen his science-wand in action, and it would certainly be welcome.

...Not that she had any idea what was going on, but the screams of one of her fellow companions were certainly cause for concern. Although, that begged the question of just what in the sufferer's name Nepeta was doing down there.

She ran down the corridor for a few more moments, before arriving at a four way intersection, and slowing to a stop. She had no idea where to go from there.

A panting Eridan caught up with her. Glancing around at the seemingly identical doors, he asked, "noww wwhat"

She regretfully shrugged, "I Dont Know. This Is Where The Screaming Ended"

Eridan frowned, "wwho evven wwas that, it kinda sounded like... that... cat shipper girl"

"Nepeta." She deadpanned,

He at least had the decency to _pretend_ to be mildly embarrassed, "oh yeah, of course, i kneww that," he replied quickly.

Her further sarcastic reply died in her throat as she thought she heard a faint noise coming from the air-vents that ran along the ceiling. "Quiet!" She hissed at him, gesturing upwards as explanation,

Together, they both watched the thin metal pipe running along the wall with anxious anticipation. Moments later, the faint sound returned,

*honk*

...

*honk*

Eridan narrowed his eyes. Carefully examining each corridor leading away from them, and then focusing on the routes the noise-carrying pipe took, he gestured down the rightmost one, and declared,

"there! thats the one"

Kanaya had been doing her own analysis of the pipes, and she agreed with his conclusion. With an unspoken nod, they both moved down the right corridor, weapons held at the ready.

As they headed down the corridor, various noises began to manifest from the other end of the door. Most couldn't be clearly made out, but the unnerving *honks* could be faintly heard. Whatever was going on down there, it was happening inside.

Approaching the door, they both took up positions on either side of it. Him on the right, wand drawn, her on the left, chainsaw held ready. As Eridan reached for the door controls, he inwardly smirked. This was just like his FLARPing days, boarding ships, taking plunder. The good old days.

Just as his hand reached the panel, Kanaya waved for him to stop. Before they entered, she had an idea...

Leaning against the door, she put her ear against the cool metal. She wanted to at least get a measure of whatever the heck was going on before they both jumped into the middle of it.

...

...

At first there was silence, and not even the honking noises were present. Then, there was a noise like shattering glass, followed by several dull thuds, as if a plate of metal was being repeatedly struck. Several more crashes and thuds echoed through the thick door, before Kanaya decided that it was time to act.

Leaning back, she nodded to Eridan, and revved her chainsaw while he hit the door.

With a hiss, it slid open, and the second the doorway was clear, they moved in.

She took in the entire room with one glance.

They were in a medium-sized computer room with several large glass tubes, one of which was broken. Several tables worth of computers were smashed, crushed, destroyed and otherwise demolished. Most of the lights in the room were off, giving the illuminated spots a spooky ambiance...

Oh, and Nepeta was lying off to the side, in a growing pool of her own olive blood. One of her arms was bent at a very sickening angle, and she appeared to be passed out.

The only thing stopping Kanaya from immediately running to the fallen girl's side, and administering whatever first-aid she knew was the spectacle occurring in the center of the room...

There, the unmistakable towering form of Equius grappled with... Gamzee?

Yes, a double-take indeed confirmed that, indeed, the normally passive and simpleminded violet blood was violently fighting the muscular indigo blood. Gamzee was a mess, his face was bruised nearly beyond recognition, his arm was cut and bleeding, and he was heavily stained with both his own, and Nepeta's blood.

Equius wasn't fairing too much better though. When the two separated, and began to aggressively circle each other, looking for an opening, he walked with a noticeable limp, favouring his left leg.

Finally, it seemed that the opening of the door had registered with the occupants of the room, and both Equius and Gamzee had paused to stare at Kanaya and Eridan, who regarded the brutal scene before them with shock and disbelief.

Gamzee recovered from the distraction first, and swiftly uncaptchalogued his juggling clubs. Before Equius could even turn his attention back to him, the juggalo lunged forward, driving one of the clubs into his opponent's chest with a sickening crack.

Kanaya shuddered, ribs were definitely broken.

Teetering, the indigo blood toppled to the ground.

The entire process, from entry to present, took mere moments.

Slowly, the purple clown turned to face the new arrivals in the room...

Being reasonably versed in troll biology, Kanaya felt a shiver of fear when she saw his eyes. His purple orbs were severely dilated. That, coupled with the fact that he'd just beat two of their companion's to near-death had only one, horrifying, conclusion.

Gamzee was sober.

She was not a stranger to the violent rampages of the high-bloods, and the slime pies were the only thing that kept the clown sedated and under control. If they had run out, just like Karkat had said...

A heavy juggling pin in each hand, and covered in blood that was mostly not his own, Gamzee theatrically announced, a demented grin upon his face, "WeLcOmE, mOtHeRfUcKeRs, To tHe dArK CaRnIvAl!"

...

XXXXX

Meanwhile, a formally robed teal-blood swiftly paced through an upper-floor corridor.

Terezi was not in a particularly good mood. Just moments earlier she'd been torn from conversation with the interesting red blooded Dave human, by some inane message from Tavros.

Normally she wouldn't care and leave it to languish forever in the virtual bin of ignored messages forever... but after a while she decided that there really was nothing better to do, so she gave it a read.

...

Just a few moments later, she'd grabbed her sword-cane, her legislacerator coat, and her special shades. There was criminal hunting to do...

Now, she prowled stealthily through the corridor, unsheathed weapon at her side, and her nose smelling for anything out of the ordinary. If Vriska thought she could 'jump-ship', and expose them to the enemy, then she had another thing coming.

In truth, the young teal-blood mused, she had left their confrontation simmer for too long. Their relationship was one of complexity, rivalry, and seemingly simultaneous die-hard friendship and utter loathing. Faintly smirking, she sighed. It really made no sense, no matter which way she looked at it. Which, perhaps made their relationship all the more unique and special.

They both had had some really noteworthy times; good, bad, and in-between. She allowed herself a small smile as memories of hardcore FLARPing sessions came to her mind, life or death battles against other trolls, where they always had each other's back. Good times. Her smile faded somewhat as her thoughts turned to events that came later. The breaking up of their group, the arguments and pettiness. The whole bit where she'd tried to kill Vriska, and succeeded in blowing her arm off and partially blinding her. Then Vriska had retaliated by making her go blind... Also good times.

T'was a shame she'd probably have to kill her... Unless Vriska decided to be co-operative, and for the first time in her life listen to reason... Terezi actually snorted in amusement at that.

As if.

Regardless, she returned her attentions to walking without bumping into objects. It was hard being a helpless little blind troll girl... She was barely able to think that last bit with a straight face. Despite her seemingly debilitating injury, she was still an extremely dangerous and deadly fighter.

Though she'd never fought Vriska before. Well, to the death at least. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't looking forward to it. One way or another, she would bury their feud. Perhaps literally.

With that resolution, she exited a doorway and stepped into the main corridor, that cut through most of the upper levels of the meteor.

A few measured strides carried her over to the stairs that led down to the open-air landing pad below. Tavros had said Vriska was going to fight Jack Noir, and this was the only real option she had to reach the outside.

Just then, an utterly rancid odour assailed her nostrils.

Pinching her nose shut with her free hand, and scowling in disgust, Terezi cautiously sniffed around for the source of the awful stench. It seemed like there was a pile of... garbage bags of some kind, scattered across the floor. Some had their revolting contents strewn across the ground.

She recoiled, was this where Karkat was disposing of them? That was the utter opposite of clean and hygienic. He should have counted himself lucky that no open air vents were nearby, so that the nasty odour couldn't spread throughout the whole meteor.

Nonetheless, she had bigger seabeasts to fry. Clenching her nostrils tighter, she pushed on. The stairs were just ahead. Coming to the top of the descending stairwell, she sighed in relief, having stepped upwind of the garbage bags. Now she could regain the full use of her smelling faculties.

Taking a step down, she took a deep breath of clean, sweet, air.

And froze.

At the bottom of the stairs, she could smell two very distinct, very familiar trolls, as well as the ominous smell of spilt blood. With a gasp of both worry and anger, she rushed down the rest of the stairs.

She wasn't quite sure what had happened, but everything was going to be okay. The Legislacerator had arrived, and medical assistance would be given to the injured, and the swift bite of justice's blade would fall upon the guilty...

Now she just needed to figure out which was which...

XXXXX

Within a damaged laboratory, a Jade blood and a Violet blood faced off against a crazed high-blooded clown...

Standing opposite the blood soaked Gamzee, matriorb still protectively held with one arm, while the other raised her chainsaw in defence, Kanaya took a cautious step backwards.

She didn't doubt her own ability to fight the clown, doubly so with backup, but to fight _and_ guard the mother grub's egg at the same time...

Hastily but gently, she hopped backwards towards the rear wall, and deposited the orb on the ground, to keep it out of the way. Then, she turned her gaze back to the high-blood standing in the center of the room, intently watching her with an almost predatory stare.

Nodding to Eridan, who stood beside her, she began to approach, chainsaw revving lightly. As she drew closer, she circled slightly to the left, while Eridan went right. If all went well, they'd catch the murderous clown between them, and finish the fight swiftly.

After all, her severely injured friends needed immediate medical attention, and, while no-one on the meteor was a certified healer, she at least knew most of what to do.

It was just then, as she manoeuvred around a table, that things ceased to go according to plan...

With a cross between a guttural roar and demented laughter, the purple clown leapt up onto the table, and with clubs brandished, rushed her. He was fast. Faster than she ever would have expected from a seemingly clumsy fool such as him.

Only her natural reaction times saved her from having her head smashed in by a savage downward blow from a juggling club. Ducking down, she furiously slashed upwards with her chainsaw, but the clown's arm was already withdrawn.

Not wasting a moment, Gamzee leapt off the table, and closed the distance between them in a single step. At this range, where they were nearly chest to chest, his clubs could still be swung, as he then demonstrated with a series of reckless, frenzied swipes that nearly hit her three times over.

She tried to get back, lashing out with her free arm whenever the opportunity arose, but the clown was always right on her. Both of them knew that her chainsaw was near useless at such close quarters.

More strikes from his clubs followed, each swung with bone-breaking force. Narrowly avoiding all of them, Kanaya settled for a desperate gambit. She couldn't survive like this for long...

In a move that surprised even herself, she suddenly stepped closer to the taller troll, taking him off guard. Acting swiftly, she smashed her head into his nose, whilst simultaneously attempting to knee him in the groin.

Though the last part failed, Gamzee's nose was profusely bleeding, and he was staggered. Roughly shoving him away and backpedalling rapidly, she was about to shout for Eridan to blast the clown when a beam of brilliant white lit up the room.

Just before it hit, Gamzee threw himself backwards, and allowed it to pass harmlessly overhead, melting a section of wall in the process.

Undeterred, Eridan continued to fire his science-wand, even as the clown did his best to evade and seek cover. Though, that wasn't to say that the violet-blooded fish troll was especially accurate. Computers exploded, chunks of smoking metal were ripped out of the walls, and tables were blasted into glowing metal shards as Eridan tried to hit the fast clown.

Finally, Gamzee slid behind a counter that was dense enough to survive direct hits from the science-wand. Eridan held his fire, and Kanaya shuffled closer to him.

They needed to come up with a better plan, Gamzee was fast, and he was strong. Indiscriminately firing until they blew out the walls and brought the entire ceiling down wasn't really a good idea.

Leaning towards him, Kanaya began to whisper the beginnings of what was likely a particularly brilliant plan, when Gamzee resurfaced from behind the counter, purple blood down his front, and murder in his eyes.

Before either of them could even react, he had hurled one of his heavy juggling pins with lethal force. It was aimed straight at her.

Time seemed to slow, and Kanaya found that she could only stare at the oncoming projectile in odd fixation. Despite her mind screaming at her body to move or dodge, she found her responses sluggish and unresponsive. Just as the projectile neared, she was roughly hit from the side, and pushed to the ground by Eridan, sending them both crumpling to the ground in a heap. Disoriented, she weakly mumbled something that could be interpreted as 'thanks'.

The club meanwhile, sailed harmlessly overhead, and simply kept going. And going. And going. Once it reached the far wall, it directly struck the matriorb, shattering the delicate egg with a fleshy crack, and covering the bottom part of the wall in sticky goop.

For a moment, they both stared at it's remaining broken pieces in disbelief and horror. Then, with an enraged and, in Eridan's opinion, terrifying hiss, Kanaya leapt to her feet, chainsaw in hand, and recklessly charged after Gamzee who had slipped out of the room by then.

Eridan lingered a moment, looking at the crumpled bodies of his companions, before grumbling and heading in pursuit of Kanaya. They were injured, but still alive. Kanaya was still in good health, but perhaps not for long if she ran off alone. He certainly wasn't going to lose two moirails in a single solar cycle.

XXXXX

Inside a crisscrossing series of dim corridors just nearby...

Her bloodpusher beating furiously with incandescent rage, Kanaya sprinted through the light-less halls of the meteor's nether regions in pursuit of the escaping murderer. Her natural eyesight was more than good enough to compensate for the low light conditions. If that filthy purple blooded monster thought that he could get the drop on her in this maze, then he had another thing coming.

Kanaya was so utterly angry that her arms were outright shaking. He had nearly murdered her friends, he had nearly murdered her, and as if that was not enough, he had sucessfully murdered their entire species.

The loss of the matriorb, and the staggering implications of such a result, was actually not noticed by her, likely due to shock or something. She would have time enough to scream in desperation and punch walls later. Right then and there, she was going to avenge their species, rip that clown's spine out, and beat him to death with it. A fast death was far, _far_ too good for him.

Rounding a corner at full speed, she revved her chainsaw all the way, outright getting it straight to the 'cutting' part of it's spin cycle, and kept it there. She didn't care if it gave away her position. She didn't care if he heard her coming.

In fact, she hoped he did. Because it would be the last thing that Gamzee ever heard.

Slowing down at a rapidly approaching four-way intersection, she scanned each hall intently, before hearing faint footsteps from behind her...

With a ferocious snarl, she whirled around, swinging her chainsaw aggressively... only to frantically stop it just before it managed to bisect a terrified Eridan that had just caught up with her.

"wwoah kan, clam dowwn, i knoww wwhat happened wwas terrible, but bein reckless and splittin up wwont help thins," he squeaked, staring wide-eyed at the slowly revolving blades a tiny distance away from his waist.

She lowered her weapon and sighed hopelessly.

"I... Im So Sorry Eridan..." She choked out, dejectedly murmuring, "I... I... Failed Everytroll, Its All My Fault... If I Hadnt Brought The Matriorb..."

Eridan felt like he should do somethin, being her moirail and all. Comfortingly putting an arm around her, he soothed, "kan, if you hadnt taken immediate action gam might havve killed sometroll... i checked theyre still alivve just hurt reel bad" Patting her on the back reasuringly, he added softly, "you savved their livves, this this is all gams fault, not yours, not mine, not anytroll elses."

Glancing down the corridor, his eyes turned predatory, and his face shifted into an expression his terrified victims had dubbed, 'fish hitler'.

"noww come on kan, lets krill that juggalo" he muttered.

Kanaya nodded, and brushed his arm off. The time to collapse and be a nervous wreck would come later, after the murderer was dead.

Tightening her grip on the chainsaw's handle in determination, she began to advance into the four-way intersection, Eridan by her side. Then, she stopped.

She had just realized that neither of them had any idea where Gamzee had gone.

A quiet *honk* floated down the leftmost passage...

She smiled murderously. They had him now...

XXXXX

Nearby, a black sweatered troll with nubby horns angrily paced down a dim hall, grumbling quietly under his breath.

Karkat Vantas was not in a good mood. What did he tell all the idiots that were with him when they were all together? Oh yeah, 'STAY PUT AND DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID, WE HAVEN'T EXPLORED ANY OF THE METEOR YET, AND IF YOU ALL GO WANDERING OFF, YOU'LL GET LOST LIKE THE INCOMPETENT WRIGGLERS YOU ALL ARE.'

...

What did everyone proceed to do, no less than a few moments after he had said that?

Oh, yes. Wander off alone.

He rolled his eyes and released a deep, rattling sigh of utter irritation. Sometimes, (well, all the times, really) he felt like he was the only responsible and smart troll on his whole planet. Well... Alternia was destroyed... but still, the metaphor stood.

Now, he found himself wandering around the lower levels of the meteor, trying to make sure none of his friends got lost, or starved to death, or fell down an open elevator shaft or something.

Heck, he wouldn't put it past some of them to decide to stick body parts into electric panels. It was an eternal marvel how his race even lived long enough to escape their planet's gravity well, let alone begin a campaign of galactic conquest.

Another distant *honk* echoed down the hall, and he slightly flinched.

It was kinda like that horn that Gamzee carried around, except that this one sounded extremely creepy. He was most certainly looking forward to getting everyone corralled together, so they could all just leave the creepy lower levels, lock the doors leading down, and forget all about the dim labyrinth that lay below the living quarters.

Seeing still no signs of troll life, Karkat groaned. Of course none of them were nearby. That would be too simple. He was about to turn around and simply try another direction, when another honk came out of the darkness before him, this one very, very close.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at that, cussing profusely, and peering into the shadows at the light's edge. For a few seconds, he silently stood there, bloodpusher beating furiously, staring intently into the darkness, all senses on highest alert.

Sometroll or some _thing_ was out there, lurking just beyond the edge of his vision, watching him. He could feel it.

Just as the tension reached near unbearable levels, and he was about to just uncaptchalogue his weapons and rush into the darkness ahead, a footstep came.

Then, another, and another.

Karkat relaxed, it was just one of the idiots trying to mess with him.

"I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE OF YOU SHITGOBBLING MUNCHKINS THINKS HE'S BEING UPROARIOUSLY HILARIOUS, BUT REALITY CHECK FUCKNUGGET; HIDING IN A DARK CORRIDOR AND MAKING STUPID NOISES IS ABOUT ONE OF THE MOST GRUBBISH AND PATHETIC THINGS YOU CAN POSSIBLY DO." He shouted into the depths at the approaching troll. Taking a deeper breath, he added, "NOW GET OUT OF THERE, I'VE STILL GOT THE REST OF YOU BRAINBLADDER DEFICIENT BULGEMUNCHERS TO ROUND UP."

Having shown the unknown prankster just what he thought of his immature and stupid tricks, Karkat waited for the other troll to reveal himself. (Feferi was upstairs, Aradia-bot was in pieces upstairs, Kanaya was far too mature to do something so stupid, and the rest of the females were simply not stupid enough to come up with such an idea. It was clearly a 'him' that was behind all this fuckery... Probably Eridan... Or Sollux...)

Suddenly, a face splattered with very familiar white face-paint came out of the gloom.

"JEGUS!", Karkat nearly leapt out of his skin for the second time in one minute.

At first he completely relaxed. It was just Gamzee, gog knows what he was doing down there, but still, it was just harmless silly Gamzee. Then, a bloodpusher beat later, Karkat stepped back in horror as his clown moirail took a few more steps into the light, and he noticed the brutal injuries his friend had taken.

"GAMZEE?!" He exclaimed in a mix of concern and terror, "WHAT IN THE EVERLIVING BULGEFONDLING FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU? ARE YOU OKAY? YOU LOOK LIKE YOU STUCK YOUR UPPER TORSO INTO A NUTRITIONAL-PASTE PROCESSOR."

His purple-blooded friend was bleeding profusely from several deep cuts on his arms, as well as a seemingly broken nose. One of his eyes was severely bruised, and other lesser bruises covered his arms. All in all, he looked like he'd just gone several rounds with a particularly irate adult high-blood subjuggalator.

He wanted to immediately rush forward and see if he could help his friend in anyway, perhaps try to comfort him or something, as Gamzee was quite simple-minded and gentle, a round of injuries like this must have really shaken him quite bad. However, Karkat hesitated. Gamzee was really, really quiet. All that could be heard in return to his questions and exclamations was the clown's heavy panting. Something... didn't feel quite right.

As he stood there, torn with indecision, the clown took a silent step forward, then another. Suddenly crossing the distance between them, the tall troll loomed over him, prompting Karkat to try and step back awkwardly. But that didn't happen. Gamzee roughly grabbed his left arm, with a vice-like grip, holding Karkat painfully in place.

"GAMZEE WHAT THE FLYING FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Karkat demanded, shocked and confused.

The clown was silent for a moment, his painted face betraying no emotion, good or bad. Then, with theatrical slowness, he leaned in, and whispered, in a terrifyingly cold and emotionless voice. His eyes were predatory.

"YoU SeE BrOtHeR, i'vE HaD A ReVeLaTiOn oF SoRtS, ThErE'S No mOrE SlImE, yOu sEe, It's aLl gOnE, aLl oF It."

Karkat's breath caught in his throat. He understood everything with perfect clarity. The slime. The damned sopor slime that was supposed to keep Gamzee sedate and calm. The damn slime which was rapidly dwindling, and the replenishment of which he had brought up as an immediately pressing issue over a dozen times to his idiot companions. The slime had finally run dry.

Standing before him was not the gentle, rambling, simpleminded moirail he had known since they were wrigglers. Standing before him was a mentally unstable high-blood, of a caste well known for their extremely aggressive and brutal tendencies.

Suddenly the origin of his wounds began to make much more sense. A chill ran down his spine when he noticed that purple blood wasn't the only thing staining Gamzee's clothes...

"ThE SlImE WaS PoIsOn aNyWaY. dId yOu kNoW ThAt? RoTs yOuR DaMn tHiNkPaN, iT DoEs. BuT NoT AnYmOrE ThOuGh, NoT AnY FuKiN MoRe." Gamzee slowly grumbled, gesturing with his free arm, as Karkat simply froze in terror.

"NO NO NO NO NO, THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING" he muttered under his breath, trying to disbelieve the terrifying figure holding him captive.

"BuT In iT'S AbSeNcE," The mad clown continued, "i'vE BeEn bLeSsEd wItH A ReVeLaTiOn, A ReAlIzAtIoN, fRoM ThE MiRtHfUl mEsSiAhS ThEmSeLvEs... I... aM HiGhEr tHaN AlL YoU LoWbLoOdEd mOtHeRfUcKeRs. AnD ThE MeSsIaHs dEmAnD SaCrIfIcE."

Karkat was just simply stock still. Fighting or running wouldn't save him. Gamzee was faster, and far stronger. There could be no possible escape.

"ThE SuBjUgGlEaToRs aRe aLl dEaD NoW. i'm tHe lAsT OnE..." Gamzee declared, gesturing wildly and erratically with his juggling club, before loudly proclaiming, "I wIlL PaInT ThE GrAnDeSt oF MoThErFuCkInG MaStErPiEcEs wItH AlL YoUr dAmN BlOoD. aNd i wIlL FiNiSh tHeIr hOlY MiSsIoN, aNd i wIlL SpReAd tHe mIrTh oF ThE DaRk cArNiVaL To tHe rEsT Of yOu lOwBlOoD ScUm!"

Karkat flinched and squirmed and struggled in fear as his former friend raised a club over his head, preparing to crush his skull in...

Then, as the blow was about to fall, footsteps could be heard in the distance, and a mechanical noise... Gamzee hesitated for a moment, listening intently...

The footsteps grew closer, and just as Gamzee let go of his arm, and began to shift around, the mechanical noise grew to a near-deafening roar, and in a flurry of purple ichor, a chainsaw erupted from Gamzee's chest.

Karkat backpedalled furiously in shock and terror, tripping over his own feet, and fell over backwards on the floor. Beside him, the dead body of Gamzee collapsed as well.

Glancing up the corridor again, lost for words, and pushed to wit's end, he saw Kanaya standing there, lowering her bloodied chainsaw towards the ground. Noticing him, she dropped the weapon and rushed over to him, exclaiming, "Oh My Goodness Karkat What Are You Doing Here? Are You Hurt?"

Kneeling beside him, and fussing over him while checking for injuries, she asked, "What Even Compelled You To Venture Down Here? You Seemed Rather Adamant About No-Troll Else Doing That"

Managing to stop shaking, and gathering his thoughts into a coherent sentence, he stammered, "WELL... YOU IDIOTS RAN OFF DOWN HERE, AND SOMEONE HAD TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE ALL ALRIGHT..."

"oh yes youvve done such a good job of that", Came a very familiar snarky voice.

Looking over her shoulder, Karkat saw the familiar shape of the insufferable fish-troll standing beside her, still warily eyeing Gamzee's fallen form, and cautiously aiming some sort of white stick at it.

"ERIDAN... WHAT THE BULGENUZZLING FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN HERE? WHY DID GAMZEE JUST ATTACK ME LIKE SOME KIND OF SCHIZOPHRENIC HIGHBLOOD WITH A NEST OF STINGBUGS IN HIS TROUSERS?" He demanded, beginning to regain some of his composure.

Kanaya stood up, and interrupted the hipster's response.

Grabbing Karkat's arm, and roughly lifting him on his feet she stated, "Why Gamzee Did What He Did Is Currently Irrelevant. Come on."

She turned to the hall, and began to quickly head down it, pausing only to scoop up her discarded weapon. As Eridan fell in beside her, Karkat followed suit. As they rounded the corner, he gave one last glance to the brutalized body of his former friend. Suffice it to say, that a chainsaw through the chest, had been very messy indeed.

Glancing down, he noticed that his hands were still shaking slightly, and that his breathing was still ragged. It seemed that he wasn't the only one to notice, as Eridan walked closer, and put a hand on his shoulder, muttering, "its alright kar its ovver noww"

Kanaya took that moment to add, in a tone of purest loathing and hatred, something that Karkat had never seen from the gentle, motherly troll, "The Point Stands That Gamzee Lost Control And Went On A Violent Rampage. That Rampage Has Now Ended. Now Come On We Have Several Critically Injured Trolls To Take Care Of."

For a few moments, they walked in silence. What could any of them say after all that had happened.

Then, something registered in Karkat's mind.

"WAIT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ' _INJURED TROLLS_ '?!"

 _ **A/N: So... That just happened. Anyway, to keep things brief, the next chapter will be of similar length, so expect a similar wait-time. This is also the moment when I will beg for reviews, as I am a wierdo who relies on stranger's opinions to feel better about himself. Regardless, if I can get more reviews, that means I have more motivation to write faster. But still, do whatever you folks want. Tis entirely your call.**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed, and I hope you come back next time, for the LOFAF ultimate 4v1 showdown.**_


	37. Act II: Chapter 12

_**A/N: Hello ladies and gents, I am back. ...Wow, it has been a long time. I apologize greatly for the wait, but to be honest, this month or so has been the biggest mess ever. I've had end of semester exams (always pleasant), graduation (boring and unmemorable) and all it's assorted events, and scholarship/ university stuff.**_

 _ **Moreover, I've recently been in a terrible car accident, where some fellow came across the highway divider line, and hit my friend's car. Everyone except the driver is fine, and the driver has mostly recovered now. Miraculously there were no fatalities or serious injuries. Still, a bit of a wrench in the works for everyone involved, to say the least.**_

 _ **Adding writer's block into the mess, and the massive length of this chapter, and well, I hope you folks appreciate the hoops I jump through for you all. Despite getting all this stuff out of the way, I still have even more things to deal with, so expect vaguely similar updates on the next one.**_

 _ **Anyway, I own nothing save the OCs, please review as everyone brings a smile to my face and a tear to my eye, and I hope you enjoy.**_

 _ **Thank you all so much for sticking with this story, and for all your support**_

Upon a frigid Land of Frost and Frogs, within a detached spherical structure, two children worked furiously behind their computers.

Chester finished his fruitless attempts at contacting the alien fellow he had spoken with earlier, and frowned. Looking up, he glanced at Jade, who was busy trying to get in touch with some other alien called 'Kanaya', or something. Apparently, both she and the alien female were space players too. In the troll's session, Kanaya had been responsible for most of the events that led to the birth of the universe frog he now found himself in.

...That was pretty much the strangest thing he had ever thought in his entire life. Universe frogs? Really? Still, he supposed there could have been even stranger ways for reality to reproduce... None came to mind, but the sheer absurdity that sometimes came with reality knew no bounds.

As Jade had explained, it was a space player's job to... breed frogs? ... and birth a new universe in the process... somehow.

It certainly would have been nice if his blasted super-brain could have let him know about that little tidbit of information. Especially _before_ they left to go fight the black king.

...Come to think of it. Perhaps that was why the strange metal door didn't work. Thoughtfully frowning, he vaguely remembered having some niggling urge back then to return to his planet, and do something related to frogs... That _had_ been his and Evan's initial plan, before... other events had transpired.

So, here he was. While Jade tried to get the finer points of frog duties out of the alien female, Chester had tried to hit up his old alien pal... whom he had known for only half an hour at that point...

For whatever reason, Eridan was remaining offline, and generally being uncooperative.

Noticing that Jade had raised her laptop goggles, and began to idly scan the room in boredom, Chester glumly asked, "No luck either?"

Jade shook her head, "nope, i'm not sure what's going on on their end"

Chester shrugged, "Well. They will probably get back to us when they're able. They probably have alien stuff to do right now."

She sighed and nodded slightly, "i suppose so. ...although, i kinda wonder what kind of alien stuff they actually get upto, being a super different species and all..."

At that point her eyes had actually brightened, and she was actually excited, as though only just then realizing the sheer implications of real, genuine, aliens.

"I thought they were all jerks?" Chester dryly enquired,

She gave him a flat, annoyed, stare. "well, kanaya was really polite the one time i talked to her... then there was that tavros brown guy, and he was really nice too." she admitted,

Glancing at his computer screen again, chester muttered, "I really wish Eridan would answer me. He seemed like such an intelligent and historically-minded person...alien. There's so many questions I still have."

"don't get carried away though," she pointed out, trying to keep a deadpan expression, "it wouldn't be nice to scare them off with an avalanche of text."

"...That is a valid point. ...I probably should remember that other people have the right to also speak in a conversation... I rarely participate in those. So the finer points of social etiquette still elude me." Chester slowly replied, grumbling under his breath. Talking to people was always a frustrating and awkward experience, without fail.

"im sure they wont actually be scared off," Jade reassured, somewhat concerned that the joke had gone way over his head, "besides, most of them are hardly nice people anyway."

"...Good. Sounds like I'll fit right in." Chester deadpanned.

"what! i didn't say that," Jade exclaimed, "i don't think you're a mean person... mostly... as long as you aren't trying to micromanage things"

Chester shrugged, "To be honest you weren't wrong. I don't _try_ to be condescendingly smarter than everyone else. It just kinda comes naturally."

Jade gave him a long, flat stare. She wasn't buying it.

"Well... I suppose you're one of the few people that can match my great intelligence." Chester admitted, awkwardly trying to engage in the fabled art of human interaction known as ' _sarcasm_ '.

Clearly, human interactions remained an area where he was out of his depth.

"right..." she commented, "still, i suppose that was... almost a compliment, so i think i'll run with that" she added, smiling goofily.

Trying to abort the social train-wreck he found himself in, Chester coughed and awkwardly changed the subject.

"So since we can't get a hold of any of them. Do you have a plan B?"

Jade shook her head, "not really, there's not much we can do until i learn most of the basics from kanaya."

He inwardly sighed. He hated these kinds of situations, where you were hung up waiting for someone, and there really wasn't much you could do until they deigned to return your call. Many, many horrible recollections of waiting for his tax guy and lawyer to get back to him filled his mind. So many afternoons had been wasted in such a manner...

Still, he was far from a stranger to the concepts of 'waiting' and 'delayed gratification', unlike the seeming entirety of his generation, so waiting on the trolls for a bit didn't seem like an unreasonably impossible task.

...It was just too bad that they were all being hunted by a teleporting killer, that kinda brought a sense of urgency into the equation...

"I suppose there's nothing to do but wait then." He glumly muttered,

Jade nodded, and the two lapsed into an especially awkward drawn out silence...

After several moments had passed, she broke the silence, asking, "so... have you ever thought about getting into gardening?"

"Well... Not especially. I doubt that I would find it enjoyable." Chester replied, feeling somewhat judged for his unhealthy decisions.

"oh", jade commented, before falling silent again.

A few more moments of quiet passed, before Chester coughed and asked, "So... What did you normally do for fun on the island?"

"oh, well, let's see..." She trailed off, eager to break the quiet atmosphere, "i like to tend to my plants, that's always pleasant... sometimes i go exploring on the island, well, at least until bec finds me and brings me back... i really like spending time with my friends on the internet, and sometimes i watch cartoons or something on the tv."

Turning to him, she asked, "how bout you? i guess there must have been a lot of fun stuff to do in a populated area"

Chester lowered his gaze to the ground. Looking back, he realized that apart from going to school, he really didn't leave his house all that much. Something he doubted the energetic outdoorsy girl would approve of.

"Well. I suppose there was stuff to do..." He began, trying to sound rather neutral, "I rarely left the house though." At that point, he could practically _feel_ her disapproval as a tangible force, but he nonetheless continued, "I suppose most of my time was spent in contact with my friends, or playing various games on my laptop, or idly browsing investopedia."

"that can't be healthy, did you ever go outside?" Jade enquired, managing to somehow sound exactly like his gym-teacher. ...Bloody slave-driver. The human body was not designed to do three laps around the gym. Such expectations were unrealistic and sadistic. It was a shame that all of his routine, formal complaints to the school board went ignored.

"...Not really." He admitted, before hastily adding, "Although I suppose I am a god-tier now. So it really dosen't matter. I couldn't shorten my lifespan if i tried."

She frowned, "sounds like you really dodged a bullet there."

"Yeah." He agreed,

"but you still should find some kind of sport or outdoor activity to do. It's just not natural to live indoors like some kind of blind cave-bat or something" she scolded.

He was quiet for a moment, before muttering, "You can't make me."

"i shouldn't have to!" she protested, "do you _want_ to be scrawny and unenergetic your whole life?"

"You sound just like Evan." He grumbled,

She paused in confused insult for a moment, thinking about the nature of being compared to a murderous psychopath, before snapping, "well if he's being a concerned friend about your health, then i will take it as a compliment. in that case, he is probably right"

"He once threatened to break off my legs since I wasn't using them." Chester interjected. At her horrified look of disgust, he added, "Although... I think he was joking then. You really can't tell with him though."

Jade was oddly quiet for a few moments, before nervously laughing and muttering, "...right, that's nice"

Chester awkwardly laughed as well, before falling silent and letting the uncomfortable quiet reign again. This time, they only sat in silence for a few moments, before Jade's spectagoggles began to vibrate with the pesterchum notification noise.

Smiling in relief, Jade muttered, "that must be kanaya", and lowered her glasses to reply.

XXXXX

Turning her gaze from the only other occupant in the room, Jade focused on the colourful display of her goggles. She was both mildly impatient with the troll girl, and also excited to finally begin to learn about her duties as a Witch of Space.

...Then again, ascending to god-tier required a death by quest-slab, and she wasn't exactly looking forward to that. Apparently, Chester had little choice in the matter, as he was blown up by the Black King. His friends though, made her significantly more uncomfortable, as one had apparently killed the other, and later killed himself.

This did seem to prove useful though, as their full team was god-tier, and had managed to reach it in a fairly timely... if quite disturbing manner.

Opening the chat application, she read the troll girl's message.

 **-GrimAuxiliatrix [GA]** began pestering **gardenGnostalgic** **[gC]-**

GA: Greetings Jade,

GA: There Are Currently Pressing Circumstances To Which I Must Attend And Whilst Normally Your Requests For Communication Would Be Brushed Off

GA: I Suppose That Instructing You To Properly Carry Out Your Duties As A Space Player Is Far More Important

GA: Still This Will Be Brief I Have Injured Trolls To Tend To

gC: oh my, injured trolls? what's happening over there? is everyone okay?

GA: To Be Succinct, No. Everytroll Is Far From Okay

GA: Still I Am Certain That They Will All Survive...

GA: Albeit Most Will Never Be The Same

gC: what happned?

GA: That Is Irrelevant.

GA: I Have Patients To Tend To So I Will Quickly Brief You In Your Duties As A Stoker Of The Forge And A Breeder Of The New Universe,

gC: okay then, i won't waste any of your time, do your thing

gC: also im really sorry about distracting and bothering you like this, i don't mean to take you away from anyone who's hurt :(

GA: It will be fine.

GA: Your Objective To Create The New Universe Will Involve Using A Specific Apparatus To Selectively Breed Frogs With Desired Genetic Material To Eventually Create The Ultimate Genesis Frog Which Will Become The New Universe

GA: Are You Familiar With The Process Of Ecto-biological Cloning

gC: uhh... nope

gC: i think that's the thing john used to create us all as paradox-clones, before we were sent to earth

GA: This Complicates Matters Somewhat, But Likely Not By An Insurmountable Amount

GA: Ecto-biological Cloning Works Under The Principle Of Using A Device To Reach Through Time And Space And Take The Paradox Genetic Imprint Of An Organic Being

GA: This Is Made Possible Through The Linear Nature Of Time. Because Of This, The Being Itself Cannot Be Abducted By The Device, As It Must Go On To Interact With Other Objects And Otherwise Influence Events To Create The Future That You Inhabit

GA: Are You Following Me So-Far?

gC: yep!

gC: it makes sense so-far

GA: ...

GA: Good.

GA:Said Paradox Slime Is Thus Created As A Result Of Trying To Abduct A Being That Is Fated To Partake In Events That Are Integral To Creating The Future

GA: Or Present

GA: I Am No Time Player

GA: Now Then, This Principle Is Used To Take The Paradox-imprint Of Genetically Desirable Frogs And Collect It In A Series Of Storage Tanks Within The Device

GA: The Slime Is Then Mixed In Varying Concentrations And Experimented Upon Until The Desired Genetic Slurry Is Formed

GA: The Formed DNA Is Then Used To Create The Universe Frog

GA: Your Knowledge As A Space Player Should Guide You To The Necessary Concentrations And Desired Genetic Traits

GA: That Should Be Everything

GA: Do You Have Questions

gC: a few, when you said that the paradox clones are created because the person they're based off has to go on and do things, how would that work with frogs?

GA: Oh Yes. The Frogs Will Need To Be Interacted With At Some Point In Their Future In Order For The Paradox Cloning To Work

GA: This Interaction Will Need To Be Facilitated By You

GA: ...This Is Why Breeding A New Universe Takes An Exuberantly Long Time

gC: so if i find a frog that we need, i need to walk outside, and touch it or something?

GA: Exactly. A Point Of Advice Would Be To Interact With As Many Subjects In One Trip As Possible To Increase Efficiency

GA: This Will Still Take An Exuberantly Long Period Of Time

GA: Unlike Other Ecto-biology Terminals, This Variant Can Only Pluck Subjects From The Present And Has No Hold Over The Past Or Future

gC: hmmm :B

gC: say, do you think that time-travel could be used to speed up the process

GA: I Am Most Certainly Not A Time Player But I Suppose That Such Time Loops Could Be Fashioned To Expedite Travels

GA: Although Such Actions Would Be Quite Foolish And Dangerous

gC: more dangerous than waiting for jack to hunt us down?

GA: ...That Is A Valid Point

GA: The Decision Is In Your Hands.

gC: also, what did you mean when you said 'stoking the forge' a bunch of lines ago?

GA: The Forge Is Usually A Large Mountainous Feature Upon A Sessions Space Players Planet

GA: Its Primary Purpose Is To Enable The Ultimate Hatching And Nourishment Of The Genesis Frog

GA: The Act Of Stoking It Will Coax Its Fires To Life, This Will Create Massive Environmental Upheaval Upon The Planet And Make It Possible To Interact With The Inhabiting Frogs

GA: You Should Make This Your First Priority

gC: ...all of my frogs are frozen outdoors... igniting the forge would probably warm up the planet, and thaw them out!

GA: Exactly.

GA: Will That Be All?

gC: i think so, after all, i've got another space player here

gC: we should be able to figure it all out.

GC: i won't keep you any longer, thanks so much kanaya!

GA: ...You Are Welcome Jade. Good Luck.

- **GrimAuxiliatrix [GA]** ceased pestering **gardenGnostalgic [gC]** -

Exiting her conversation with Kanaya, Jade was immediately assailed by a barrage of questions from Chester. This time, he actually delivered them slowly and one at a time, much to her convenience.

"So. What did you find out? What does the 'Frog-Breeding' activity entail?" Chester enquired, genuinely curious.

She smiled knowingly, perhaps for the first time since Prospit fell, she knew what was going on, and she had a plan.

"well...", she began...

XXXXX

Elsewhere, upon a smouldering Land of Heat and Clockwork, two figures continued to sit inside a shaded part of metal lattice-work.

Evan was contemplatively staring into the burbling magma and shifting gears below, musing about his recent conversation with a spineless fake alien, as well as his earlier approaches to deal with his friends.

He was just trying to make them stronger, why couldn't they see that? Most of all Chester, he was the smart one, why did he always fight him on nearly every decision? Evan grumbled and shook his head, he was regrettably too far away to ever really help his friends back on earth, all he could ever really do for them was to simply offer advice over the internet.

...Well, sometimes in dire circumstances he also mailed them stuff, and fixed certain problems for them... Like that time he _solved_ Chester's 'bullying problem' with a single well-addressed package, or when he got Chris out of police custody, scot-free with a well placed box of democratic and patriotic letters... and several hundred wrapped sets of American money...

He swore up-and-down before Chester that it wasn't bribery. He just wanted to show the noble law-enforcement officers his gratitude for their heroic service... There was also a note about how there was far more important stuff they could be doing, rather than detaining a nine-year-old for breaking and entering, and petty theft.

Chester was, once again, not very pleased. Still, at least they both agreed that a jail-free Chris was a good thing. After that, things got even better when the arrogant nerd actually... _thanked_ him. Evan was quite pleased that he'd had the good sense to screen-cap that moment. He would never stop holding it over Chester's head.

At that moment, his deep and complex ponderings were interrupted when Dave's computer-glasses began to vibrate with the same annoying pesterchum noise that had long since grown to be an annoyance to Evan.

Flicking a button on the side to reply, (And trying his best to ignore Evan's impatient demands of 'who is it?' 'Whats going on?') Dave went quiet and answered the message.

 **-** **gardenGnostalgic** **[gC]** began pestering **turntechGodhead [tG]-**

gC: hi dave! :)

gC: how's it going over there?

tG: hey, harley

tG: things are going about as well as they could be, teleporting dog-murderers and decaying time-loops not withstanding, of course

tG: babysitting this evan fellow is far from a picnic as well

tG: if anything, it's closer to trying to implement an elaborate nicholas cage-worthy scheme to plunder a gas station of it's near inedible egg-salads,

gC: uhh, what

tG: keeping this guy from wandering off and harrasing the consorts should be a full time occupation, complete with apprenticeships and a four year degree program

tG: ...

tG: he's gone again, give me a second...

tG: ...there we go, i should really just get a past dave to just keep an eye on him permanently or something, maximize the efficiency of my sick time travel skills

tG: so enough about me and all my radical talents and stuff, how are things going on your end

tG: any of these strange kids end up over there

gC: actually one did!

tC: his name's chester and he's really nice and he's really quiet

tG: sounds like less of a headache than this guy, wanna trade

gC: nope :p

tG: darn, i knew i should have listened to bro and studied marketing and sales, instead of producing more sick raps,

tG: woe is me, how will i ever get rid of this guy now

tG: for real though, he's not all that bad, pretty hilarious actually,

tG: in an ironic way of course,

gC: obviously

tG: you know me so well

gC: moving on, what are you guys upto now?

tG: sitting here, contemplating life's most pressing mystery... what _is_ 'i can't believe it's not butter'?

tG: if it's not butter... then what is it

tG: *mind blown*

tG: is your mind sufficiently blown yet

gC: oh yeah, its very much blown

gC: really though, what are you guys doing

tG: really though, not much

tG: why are you asking

tG: this sounds like the beginning of a very interesting and disastrous proposition

gC: well, we were about to get started on the frog-breeding, as well as planning to defeat jack before he can hurt anyone else

gC: and we need your dazzling time-travel talents to help

tG: flattery will get you everywhere

tG: except to the nightclub down the street, trust me, i've tried

gC: :P

gC: do you guys know how to get over here, cause im not too sure how to get you here

tG: leave that to me and my dazzling skills

tG: see you soon

 **-turntechGodhead [tG]** ceased pestering **gardenGnostalgic [gC]-**

XXXXX

For a moment, Jade sat still after her chat client closed. Then, she slowly broke into an ear to ear smile. She was finally going to meet one of her childhood friends.

Excitedly jumping up, and grabbing a startled and bewildered Chester, she ran for the detached sphere's exit, dragging him behind. Her only response to his flailing was a jubilant "we need to get back to the tower, this is going to be so coooooooool!"

XXXXX

Upon a Land of Heat and Clockwork, a black-suited, dark shades wearing cool-kid causally rose to his feet, and nodded to his grey-coated companion.

Getting to his feet and rising to his towering full height, Evan demanded "What's going on, what happened, who was that, are we going to do something interesting now"

Turning around, and motioning for him to follow, Dave replied, "well my time-travel brilliance is needed elsewhere, so i'm goin to wander over to another planet to grace them with some sick raps as well"

Interrupting Evan's unspoken demand, Dave also answered, "of course you're welcome to come along, certainly wouldn't dream of excluding someone as socially gifted as you"

Walking at a determined pace alongside him, idly gazing off the edge of the metal girder and into the swirling magma below, Evan nodded, acknowledging the compliment.

Beside him, Dave succeeded in keeping a straight face, before thoughtfully muttering,

"although, since we've got a teleporting serial murderer hanging around now, your skills at brutally murdering things would probably be welcome"

Evan grinned and brushed the handle of his sheathed sword absentmindedly, "It's good to be appreciated", he humbly muttered.

Once again, Dave's suppressed snickering went entirely unnoticed.

Finally reaching the end of the makeshift metal bridge they'd been following, and climbing up a small embankment of coarse red dirt, Evan asked, "Where are we even going, we aren't taking directions from that terezi girl again, are we?"

Dave smiled and shook his head, "nah, i know exactly where we're goin"

Gesturing to follow, he expectantly blazed a path through the shifting red dirt towards an unknown destination. Grudgingly, Evan trudged after him. He missed working with Chester, at least he'd always explain things when asked.

...A little _too_ in depth, but still, no-one was perfect.

He just hoped wherever they were going had air conditioning.

XXXXX

An irritatingly long walk later, they had crested a sand-swept hill and came into view of a very familiar apartment building, still perched in it's lake of magma.

Beneath his gasmask, Evan frowned thoughtfully. The tower seemed significantly taller than it used to be...

"I seem to remember that thing being a lot shorter" he remarked to Dave,

The coolkid nodded and replied, "well, a short bit after jade got me in the session, and a while after you arrived, she'd been working on building this thing higher, like on those shitty home improvement dvds of john's, except without tim allen's insightful fatherly wisdom"

Approaching the edge of the hill, where the ruddy soil gave way to a sheer cliff, terminating a few hundred feet below in the lava lake, Evan glanced at the fiery expanse separating them from Dave's apartment, and (completely ignoring Dave's latest incomprehensible babbling), asked "What are we even doing here, how will this possibly help us get to another planet?"

His companion theatrically gestured upwards, dramatically proclaiming, "fly you fools..."

After a few moments of Evan's 'not impressed' face staring blankly at him from beneath the gas mask's thick lenses, Dave shrugged, muttering "geez, everyone's a critic" and pointing more specifically towards something above his house.

Evan's natural razor sharp vision allowed him to easily spot a red, indistinct circle, glowing softly in the smoke far overhead. "I guess you're going to monologue to me about what that is and why I should care?" he rumbled monotonously. This had the makings of another lecture written all over it...

Squatting at the cliff-side, Dave adjusted his glasses in a manner which Evan suspected was primarily for show, and began to theatrically elaborate, "so, the strange and eldritch beings that designed sburb had probably run into problems during the initial design, right,"

Evan shook his gasmask in confusion, what? Dave continued, unconcerned. "all their beta-tester aliens were seemingly too stupid to grow stronger _and then_ fight the giant scary things, or you know, run away when they realized that they were so in over their head that they couldn't even see where their head was anymore. so the creators decided that in order to stop people from killing themselves through sheer stupidity, they had to lock portions of the game behind portals, that could only be accessed once you'd killed enough things, became strong enough, got enough grist, and then built your house high enough to reach the next area. kinda like age-requirements at clubs, you know?" he finished with a question,

"...No, i really don't" Evan grumbled, he had no idea what a ' _club_ ' was. Wasn't that just something you hit people with?

"so, these portals all lead to areas in the game," his black suited companion continued to explain, ignoring Evan's protests and complaints, "the first two lead to areas on my planet, the third leads to jade's planet, that's the one that we want, and the others lead to rose and john's planets. to use them, we would normally have to just kill stuff or otherwise steal grist until we could build the house high enough, but..." he trailed off dramatically, a knowing smirk crossing his features, "you can (sort-of) fly, and i've got a radical set of flying turntables, so we can just break the game and cut straight to the third portal, sound good?"

Evan nodded slowly, before asking, "Didn't you say that the portals are in place for a reason, wouldn't the game, like, destroy us or something if we went through them in the wrong order?"

Dave had a very hard time keeping the stunned look off his face. Here was perhaps the most casually irreverent and deliberately antagonistic person he knew, and here he was worried about 'breaking a rule'.

The disbelief must have shown on his face, as Evan crossed his arms threateningly, and muttered, "I don't have a problem with _tough enemies_ ," he said the last bit with mocking contempt, "but when reality itself might decide to delete me..." he trailed off, muttering something about finding a way to kick the universe's ass one day...

Dave hurriedly raised his arms in a placating gesture,

"i didn't mean there were _those_ kinds of consequences, just that higher levelled enemies would start spawning," conspiratorially, he whispered, "between you and me, i think we can take whatever sburb throws at us"

Uncaptchaloging a turntable, and gingerly lowering himself onto the floating device, he asked, "now then, are we ready to do this, and make some baby frogs?"

With that stupefying question, he slowly and cautiously lifted into the sky, and soon disappeared in the shifting clouds of smoke. Moments later, Evan clumsily rose upwards as well, and all the while cursing the damned flying majjyks, followed suit towards the glowing rings above.

XXXXX

Meanwhile, upon a Land of Frost and Frogs, two children stood atop a flat, windswept roof.

Glancing around at all of the surrounding equipment, much of it surprisingly small, Chester shivered, nuzzling deeper into his tan coat for warmth. He was wet, he was cold, and he was fairly miserable. Jade literally dragging him through snowdrifts in-order to get back to the main tower, did not help matters.

Jade had apparently received the 'run-down' on how frog breeding was supposed to work, and she had then imparted said wisdom unto him. Surprisingly, he found his super-brain kicking in, filling in the blanks and gaps in her information, and helping him to comprehend a silly and unscientific topic.

' _Would have preferred getting all this information in the other session. Stupid brain._ ', he mentally grumbled. It seemed that the trade-off for being so brilliant, was that his super-brain was near impossible to use, and whenever it did helpfully contribute or volunteer information, said information had already been learned.

...Or worse, the lack of said information had caused catastrophic problems...

Shivering again and sighing deeply, he slowly contemplated the small cloud of mist formed by his breath. This bloody place was colder than his home town, and that was most certainly saying something.

Apparently, Jade had had equipment for frog-breeding set up on the flattened roof of her tower, in a spot that used to be occupied by the abandoned spherical laboratory before... ahem, a sprite-related _incident_ took place. The spherical top of the building was now lying... somewhere down there, half buried in snow.

The trek out of the ruined ball lab, and through the somehow even _more_ snow encrusted hillside back to the tower was... unpleasant, to say the least. Upon their arrival, instead of spending a few hours in-front of the roaring fire in the sitting room, creepy stuffed grandpa be damned, Jade had drug him all the way to the top of the tower, and onto this cover-less and exposed platform.

Nearly a kilometre tall, the (newly created) flat roof of the tower was utterly exposed to the (non-existent) mercy of the biting wind and howling snow. Jade, he noted with just a twinge of jealous contempt, was completely ignorant of the cold, her... fluffy earmuffs seeming to be the only cold weather gear that she'd bothered to wear.

At least he'd managed to talk her out of wearing that stupid dress thing that she'd tried to leave the lab in. Chester wasn't exactly a doctor or a weather scientist, but he was reasonably sure that if someone walked around outside in that thing, they'd genuinely freeze to death in under a minute, majjykall cold resistance or not.

Deciding that perhaps movement would stave off his frozen death by a few minutes more, he walked across the length of the tower, and crouched beside Jade, who was tinkering with what looked like a tiny version of the... of the... equipment he'd used way back when, with the strange babies and... ' _Ectobiology'_ , his super-brain helpfully suggested.

"Shut up." he muttered in annoyance,

Jade looked up, raising an earmuff, "huh, did you say something?"

Chester quickly muttered, mortified "No. Of course not."

"oh, okay" she went back to fiddling with the small device, adjusting some manner of glass container. Chester figured that the smallness of the assorted experimentation devices was due to the fact that frogs themselves were quite small, but still. Dealing with a scientific device that looked like it was better suited to operation by a doll or something, rather than a human was stupid and demeaning of his scientific skills.

Finally finishing her adjustments, Jade stood, smoothing her skirt (A skirt. She was wearing a bloody skirt in... he wasn't exactly sure, but he would have bet money that it was thirty below. How was she not cold!?).

Walking over to the centrepiece of the placed equipment, and coincidentally, the only one of the devices that was human-sized, she began typing commands into it's keyboard. The device itself was a large computer station, with a wide monitor display that Jade had just brought to life, in a flurry of activation symbols and lights.

Idly watching the screen over her shoulder, Chester enquired, "So. What are we doing exactly?"

Not lifting her eyes from the screen, which was now displaying a two columned table on the left side, and a real-time display of her planet's frozen countryside on the right, she replied "well, we've got to find and collect all the needed frogs, right?"

Chester made an agreeing noise.

She nodded, continuing, "but we can't really go out and deal with them until they're all unfrozen, and even then, interacting with all of them will take a long time." The display changed, zooming into a sea-green forest near her tower, before focusing on a fat green frog, frozen in a chunk of ice.

"so i told dave to come over here, and help us with his time powers to deal with the frogs really quickly." she explained, absentmindedly adding, "although, before we go out, we'll need to select all the frogs we need first, ...and go 'stoke the forge', whatever that means, to thaw out the planet"

Chester understood. Noticing how the screen was jumping from frog to frog, with most being passed over, but a few being 'saved' and put into the table on the left, he asked,

"How do you know which frogs you need?"

Still keeping her attention firmly on the screen, Jade replied "well, ...i'm not really sure, i just... kinda... know, you know?"

The soberingly annoying part, was that he knew exactly what she was talking about. It seemed that all space players shared the irritating mental assistant that was the 'super-brain'. Providing precisely no help when it was needed, and only offering confusing and useless trivia when it was not asked for.

"Yeah. I actually do know." he muttered dejectedly.

Still not turning around, she exclaimed excitedly, "you do? so is this a thing with all space players? ...the 'just knowing what to do with stuff', i mean"

"I guess so." he replied, "I think it's kinda irritating. Personally. Seems to always come at the worst times. And only ever helps out with the most useless of trivial nonsense."

She paused in thought for a few moments, before stepping away from the console, and waving him towards it. He stared at her in confused silence for a few moments, freezing to death momentarily forgotten, and dryly asked "What exactly do you want me to do with this?"

Scratching the back of her head, Jade sheepishly muttered, "...i'm not exactly sure how to continue... we need ten more frogs to make the total amount of genetic slurry, but the instinctive nudging towards certain ones is gone now" Gesturing at the screen, she suggested, "maybe if you have a go at it... besides, i thought that mages in specific are supposed to do this kinda stuff anyway"

"Alright then... Hopefully my brain decides to co-operate." Chester grumbled slowly, approaching the keyboard panel, his gaze stuck to the looming monitor, and it's ten remaining empty slots.

Gently resting his hands on the keys, he sighed and tried to clear his mind. He still was far from an expert on matters of using his 'powers', if they could even be called that, but he had more than a vague inkling of how such stuff worked.

Sure enough, the vague mess of multicoloured frogs on the screen began to slowly make sense to him. _Somehow_ , different colours and sizes of frogs corresponded with different traits that their new universe would have. For whatever arbitrary reason, that one fat yellow frog that Jade had selected, would apparently result in an abundance of the element hydrogen in the new universe, mostly in the form of a higher than average concentration of hydrogen dense planets.

He presumed the goal for the universe was to make it mostly fit for human habitation, with moderately strong gravity on most planets, and as many carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, phosphorous, sulphur, and hydrogen rich planets as possible. Temperatures supporting liquid water and Earth-like gravity would also be nice.

So far, two of her selected frogs covered the hydrogen and oxygen angles, while the other five mainly just fine-tuned the amount and types of stars that would be present, as well as the average distances between things. Impulsively, he swapped the thinnish blue frog, with a more robust greyish frog. This would result in most of the stars and solar systems being far closer, and far more densely packed. He doubted whatever dominant species present in the universe would invent some sort of physics-breaking hyperspace drive or something, so simply sticking most things really close together should probably make travel more convenient, overall.

All they really needed now was an abundance of carbon, nitrogen, sulphur and phosphorous, which would make complex multicellular life more likely to appear. As he flicked through the map screens, looking for a certain speckled green frog, Jade leaned on the keyboard beside him, and asked, "what are you doing now?"

Glancing upwards at the screen, having found a plump leaf-green frog that (somehow) would make the new universe have a high concentration of carbon on more planets on average, Chester replied, "Well. To make a universe compatible with human. And other multicellular life. We need a high concentration of oxygen. Carbon. And Hydrogen on most planets..." He trailed off, before jokingly adding, "...Unless you would rather have mostly silicon-based lifeforms in the new universe. And try to reenact the Alien movies." He then muttered something under his breath about Evan likely wanting to do just that.

Jade frowned, puzzled, "i don't think i've seen those" she commented

Chester sighed in mock surprise, "Well that ruined the whole conversation I had planned. Awkward silence it is then."

"hey," she said warmly, "when this is all over, we'll get together with john and the others and watch them if you want, i think anything movie related will be right up his alley"

"You seem rather optimistic about our odds of survival." Chester darkly noted,

"well someone has to be, otherwise we'd all have just lain down and died a long time ago," she huffed

He simply nodded at that, she made an adequate point. Although, she was still obviously delusional about their odds against a teleporting, semi-omniscient, canine killing machine.

Still, he had other things to pay attention to, more specifically, the flashing monitor before him. He just had a few more things to nail down before all six of the building blocks of life would be present.

A few clicks netted him an acceptable brown frog and a thin black frog, which covered nitrogen and phosphorous, respectively. Lastly, he selected an especially thin and slimy one, which would provide the sulphur.

With that finished, and most of the building blocks of life present, there was only just some fine-tuning left to do. With six 'frog slots', as he mentally nicknamed them, left, he had limited room for refinement and customization.

The addition of a fit, young, yellow and black frog set the universe's relative age to extremely young, meaning that few planets would have formed by their entry, but making sure that they could get as much use out of the newborn stars as possible. Another black frog set the nature of most of the stars to fairly normal yellowish stars, much like the one that once warmed the skies of Earth. He figured that everyone, himself grudgingly included, would appreciate a reminder of home.

...It was quickly joined by a small bluish frog, which set the second most common type of star to the beautiful and rare Blue-Giants. It would add a touch of exotic colour to the night skies, he hoped. The fact that they were old stars, in a young universe, didn't make a whole lot of sense, but both the program and his space powers seemed adamant that it wouldn't cause any reality-breaking paradoxes.

The addition of a very lanky, seemingly starved, grey frog set the number of meteors and asteroid belts to quite low. He never really cared for the ugly space-rocks, and the dangers they posed to mankind's inevitable future of space colonization and brutal imperialism (He was still salty about not being born in the glorious age of space expansion). Hopefully they would cease to be a problem in the new universe.

With two more options left, he chose to select a reddish frog that would add sizable deposits of iron, silver, copper, and gold on a higher percentage of planets, and an especially fat , pitch-black frog that would apparently result in... a supermassive black-hole in the center of the universe. ...His super-brain seemed to think that it wouldn't exactly cause any problems, like sucking in entire galaxies or anything, so it seemed to be good. As-to why he had made it... he thought it would have been really neat.

At that moment, Jade spoke up, "what the heck!?" she demanded, "why are you making a giant black hole?"

Chester shrugged, "I thought it'd be neat." he muttered dejectedly

Jade frowned, and looked closer at the monitor, presumably using her space powers to... do whatever it is she was doing. After a few solid minutes, she smiled goofily, and said "well in that case, sure, go for it"

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"sure", she grinned, "it should be safe enough, and it would be awesome to explore and study"

He simply nodded, once again impressed with her unabashed optimism. She didn't doubt their survival for a moment... She didn't even seem to be acting, either. Chester had had plenty of first hand experience in concealing whatever important thoughts he was thinking, and as far as he could tell, she was actually genuine in her good cheer.

It was... different than anything he'd really encountered before. There was certainly Chris, but he was quite naive, and often blissfully unaware of a situation's true murky depths. Jade was a very intelligent and rational person, yet she wasn't grim and resolute at the odds like she should have been.

He sighed. Girls were just an enigma, plain and simple. Alan Turing himself would have thrown in the towel and given up a long time ago.

Stepping away from the console, he declared, "It should be finished."

Jade stepped up, and glanced over the list of selected frogs, seemingly studying the settings he had made in the universe... genetic goop... thing. Satisfied, she nodded, absentmindedly murmuring, "good job", while fiddling with the device's keyboard.

Trying to look over her shoulder, and see what she was upto, Chester was startled when she suddenly called back, "hey, do you have an easily portable computer of any kind on you?"

Stepping back, he scrambled his brain for a proper reply. "Uh. Does a laptop count?" he asked,

Replacing the selection screen with a topographical map of the planet, assorted coloured points selected upon it, she shook her head, "do you have anything smaller?"

He was about to answer 'no', but then he remembered that his old helmet had an integrated computer. Uncaptchaloging the helmet, and putting it on, immediately thankful for the warmth it gave, he said, "Well. This helmet has a small computer built in."

"great, i'll upload a map of all this stuff to your pesterchum" she replied,

"Why?" He asked, not entirely sure where the next steps of this procedure led.

Gesturing out at the snowy expanses surrounding the tower, and particularly at the sea-green forests that carpeted much of the steep mountainside where the tower was based, she explained, "once the forge is lit, and all the cute little frogs are thawed out, we'll have to go and get them, and to do that, we need to know where they are."

Chester nodded. "Fair enough.", he commented, before asking "So do the frog genetic samples pass your approval? I can't really think of anything else that needs to be added."

Jade smiled, shaking her head in agreement, "yep, you did really well with them," she praised, causing him to stare at the ground in flushed embarrassment, thankful for his helmet. It wasn't as if he hadn't encountered praise before, but this was one of the few times it was genuine, and not condescendingly spiteful. Once again, Jade was a very odd person, who he just did not know how to fully deal with. Most of his usual methods for dealing with other people, such as ignoring the ignorant and brainless sheeple, didn't quite apply to her.

Odd. Simply quite odd. Not necessarily in a bad way, just... an unusual one.

Then, noticing that she was still talking, he snapped back to attention, catching the last part of her sentence, "and, even though i don't quite know why," she was saying, "it just _feels_ like these are the right ones, you know?"

Too embarrassed to ever admit to not paying attention, Chester coughed briskly, and nodded noncommittally. She didn't seem to notice, and continued, still typing at the keyboard, "so, im sending you the map right now..." At that moment, his helmet computer-glasses beeped with a pesterchum notification, "and all we need to do now is wait for dave and... your friend, and go light the forge, and go poke all the frogs!" she excitedly finished rambling.

That all sounded about right to him, except for one lingering question, "Err... How do you plan to ' _light the forge'_. As you say. Do we even know what or where it is?" he questioned,

She stopped her typing, and slowly cast a contemplative look into the depths of the forest at the foot of the tower. "that's... something i have to do myself", she quietly replied, her good cheer dampened.

Not wanting to poke that metaphorical landmine with a ten foot pole, Chester evaded the topic by quickly muttering, "Well. As long as you know what to do with that... Then we just need to wait for Evan and that... Dave fellow?"

She nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, and casting her gaze to the sky above her tower, where a vague and indistinct green blur could barely be seen.

"i think that's where they should come from..." she muttered, her wistful and melancholy mood seeming to instantly morph into impatient annoyance.

Squinting, Chester tried as he might, but failed to make out anything more than a green fuzzy shape, somewhere up above the tower. 1.23 km. (Shut up, brain)

As the wind picked up, and he tried and failed to retreat even further into his coat and god-tier robes, he was just able to pick up a very distant familiar voice, yelling in something approaching surprise.

XXXXX

Upon a Land of Frost and Frogs, two boys suddenly appeared in a cloudy and snow-swirled sky. Immediately, gravity asserted itself, and both began to plummet downwards...

Well... one began to plummet downwards, trailing curses and expletives in his ornery wake. The other simply held on a little tighter to his gear-shaped floating turntable, and began to slowly pilot it down.

Dave was honestly a little disoriented, the stifling heat and smog of his planet was replaced with frigid and crisp air. Shivering, he'd realized that he was actually under-dressed for this location. Inwardly, he smirked at the thought of the brutal heat on his planet a minute ago, and of how ludicrous it was that he immediately found himself missing the warmth.

Fumbling with his fetch-modus while trying not to fall to his death, he managed to uncaptchalogue a long black, suit coat, which he figured complimented his suit nicely. There was, after all, never an excuse to not look stylish.

Immediately buttoning it up as far as it would go, Dave snuggled into it's high collar for warmth. His planet was beginning to look really appealing right about then.

Then, the rapidly descending turntable broke through the grey clouds, and he had his first glimpse of Jade's planet. Snow, snow, more snow, some trees, and a really big mountain. That also had snow on it. All that was missing was a majjyk snowman, an abominable snow monster, and a haunted hotel complete with axe-murderer and creepy twins.

Glancing around further from beneath the comfort of his shades, he noticed a massive white tower, rising like a... phallic object into the sky, right beneath him. Oddly, the roof appeared... damaged. Wasn't Jade's home crowned with a large sphere? Regardless, Dave was very excited (though, naturally, he went to great pains to avoid showing anything resembling emotion, as those were 'uncool') to meet one of his best friends in person for the first time.

Jade was, after all, the only person to actually appreciate his magnificent rapping abilities. He had the distinct feeling that Rose simply found his antics amusing, and was simply subtly messing with him. John... well... John just didn't understand the depths of irony and rap, despite his best efforts. Dave respected him for trying, at least. Although... Evan also now seemed to like his rapping abilities.

...Dave frankly wasn't sure what that said about his music, if it appealed to psychotic nutcases like his current... _companion_. Still, Evan was utterly hilarious, if noting else. ...Even if he wasn't actually aware of it. If anything, it made his antics and blunt statements even funnier.

Falling gracefully and stylishly through the swirling spirals of snowflakes, Dave got close to the summit of the tower. Close enough, to see a bunch of equipment setup on it's roof, and two people standing on it's surface.

Deciding that since his companion was a god tier, he could sort himself out, Dave guided the rhythmically spinning device towards the tower's roof, aiming for a dramatic landing.

As he made his approach, he saw one of the figures, dressed in silly, colourful clothing that could only be Jade, notice him, and begin to bounce in place, waving ecstatically. Allowing himself an amused smile, he waved back.

Quickly coming in for a landing, he guided the flying disk as close to the surface of the tower as he could get it, before captchaloguing it, and neatly falling to his feet, coat dramatically splaying out behind him. Perfect landing.

Jade immediately rushed forwards to hug him, squealing happily. Laughing despite himself, he picked her up, and twirled her around. Despite her actually being slightly taller than him, she didn't weigh as much as he'd expected, and thus the manoeuvre was successful. After several revolutions, he let her down and she got to her feet, adjusting her colourful and goofy glasses.

' _somethings just never change_ ', he mentally remarked, _'like the abysmal quality of john's favourite movies, or the consistent tangyness of apple juice_ ' despite being somewhat different in person than over a computer screen, (Namely, she was taller than him. For whatever reason, that bothered him ever so slightly) Jade was still like the adorkable little sister he'd never had.

For a moment, everything seemed just like old times...

Then, the loud grumbling and cursing of a falling and extremely irate Evan caught up with them. Managing to begin to fly shortly before he hit the tower, the Prince of Rage managed to slow his fall somewhat. He still ended up slamming into the roof of the tower at a respectable speed, forming a small crater at his feet, and kicking up a plume of dust and powderized concrete.

"Arrrrgh..." Came the grumbling sigh from the hazy crater.

Being the only one unfamiliar with the irate stranger, Jade could only watch in transfixed shock as a lumbering mountain rose from the smoke, brushing powderized stone from his floor length coat, and purple half-cape. An aura of cold hostility clung to him like a shroud.

The silence was broken when Jade's strange companion at the computer station finally turned away from double checking the computer, and nodded, "Evan."

Evan (who was actually taller than Jade, which was certainly saying something), grunted, "Chester,"

They all stood there for a few awkward moments, before Evan grunted again, muttering, "It's good to see you in one piece, i'd... be disappointed if you'd died somehow"

"It's pleasant to see you as well." Chester replied, before turning to Dave, and awkwardly staring at him through the helmet he wore. After a moment of awkward silence, Dave ventured conversation, "sup?"

Jade's companion stared at the ground quietly for a few moments, before shyly muttering, "Greetings."

Undeterred, Dave continued, turning to Jade, and asking "so this is the fellow you told me about, gotta admit harley, i thought he'd be taller"

Jade smiled, "he's not that short, why, he's as tall as you are"

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Dave chuckled, "oh damn, here comes harley with the logical observations, straight in an uppercut... and he's down for the count!"

Evan interrupted their shared laughter with a confused, "...She's not hitting you, do you need to sit down for a spell or something?"

Dave simply laughed harder, while Jade looked on, puzzled. Her odd companion simply sighed deeply, and deadpanned, "Evan. _Humour_. It's not literal."

"Oh, i knew that, i was just testing you" Evan replied tersely.

Dave couldn't see Chester's face, but he had a feeling that the other boy was rolling his eyes with great vigour beneath the helmet. " _Of course_." Came the reply, dripping with sarcasm.

At that point, seemingly gotten over her shock at Evan's dynamic entry and... unique temperament, Jade snapped, "everybody shut up!"

Sheepishly glancing at a startled Chester, and a Dave who was faking insult, she added, "i didn't mean it like that, im sorry,"

Casting her gaze over the assembled kids, she then continued, "alright, we actually have things to do, and as much as i'd really like to, we cant stay here and talk forever."

Nodding to Chester, and then to the large computer monitor, that was displaying some sort of map, she asked, "do you want to explain how this works, or should i"

Stepping forwards after a momentary pause, and folding his arms behind his back, Chester began to address them, in a manner akin to a general briefing his troops.

"Alright." he said, glancing pointedly at Evan as he began to pace, "I sincerely doubt you will understand or care about the 'How' and the 'Why' of things. So I will simply explain what we need to do." Gesturing behind him at the sprawling forests and clear, snowfilled plains, he continued, "Out there. Are twenty frogs of varying size and colour. Our only job is to walk upto them. Pick them up or something. And then put them back and move on to the next one."

Nodding back at the screen, he added, "The locations of each frog will be uploaded to whatever flavour of technical device you have."

Jade then stepped up, saying, "before any of that can actually happen though, i need to go down to the mountain down there and ' _stoke the forge_ ' or something, as well as ' _talking to my denizen_ ' or something like that" Those two bits of dialogue were accompanied by humorous changes in her tone, and physical air quotes.

Dave snickered, and added, "i see, i see, and you want me down there then, talking to your denizen? crackin jokes and breakin the ice, puttin the moves on"

Jade grinned, "exactly"

Evan remained completely still, not showing much of an interest in the proceedings. He simply turned to Chester and asked, "You know what to do?"

Chester nodded, and Evan added, "Good, that's all the situational understanding i need"

Glancing at the four of them, Jade asked, "so... how are we going to do this? i need to go speak with my denizen, and we then need to get all the frogs, then we need to come back here. should we maybe split up?"

Chester agreed, "Splitting up sounds like the fastest way to go about this."

Uncaptchaloging his laptop, he fumbled with it for a few moments, then showed a miniature version of the larger frog map. Pointing out six of the further away ones, he continued, "I suppose while you're getting the frogs thawed out. I'll go and begin heading away from the tower. And once things start melting I'll get the farther out ones to conserve time."

"I suppose i'll head along with you," Evan muttered, "We've got stuff to catch up on, anyway"

"Your help would certainly be appreciated." Chester replied, quickly adding, "Just try not to break any of the frogs."

Dave turned to Jade, "guess that leaves us" he said, smirking

Jade nodded, glancing down the mountain, trying to presumably find the best way to get towards whatever her denizen considered a 'lair'. Dave thought back to his own dealings with his denizen, Hephaestus. The bloody giant monster had prattled on for a bit about property damage and crappy swords, before telling him to stop cheating and come back when he was actually _supposed_ to visit him. For the sake of their success, he just hoped Jade's denizen would be more co-operative.

...And, you know, not decide to kill her on sight or something. John's denizen deciding to do just that had led to all manners of problems, ultimately leading to Davesprite's creation and copious amounts of time-travel to undo the doomed timeline.

With finality, Jade took one final look at the gathered participants, and said in the most cheerful and optimistic manner she could, "lets do this guys, everything should be just fine"

Evan grunted, Chester muttered something very pessimistic under his breath, and Dave continued to smirk. With that, the two groups separated, Evan and Chester walking to the staircase, before stopping.

Dave could barely make out Chester muttering something along the lines of, "Oh yeah. We can fly now." Evan gave no indication of a reaction, but Dave had been around him long enough to know that the big lummox was not pleased at the prospect of more flying.

The two walked to the edge of the tower, and (after some grumbling and effort) took off, Evan trailing obscenities in his wake.

Then, he and Jade were left alone.

Once she finished up with the computer station, she turned to him and pointed into a patch of forest at the foot of the tower, that looked identical to every other patch of forest. "there's the rough area where the entrance to the mountain is," she explained, "we'll head down there, find where the actual cave entrance is, and then ill go in and talk to my denizen"

Dave nodded, "sounds simple enough, although, you can use bigger words you know. im not some kinda bush man that's been raised in the woods by a rabid pack of badgers and who can't speak English. im smart enough to know what's what"

Realizing that his latest entry into the wordsmith hall of fame might have struck Jade a little too close to home, he awkwardly apologized, "err... sorry about that, got carried away and all"

Jade shook her head, "no, it's okay," she cheerfully reassured, "im alright, now come on, lets go"

Heading down the stairs with her, Dave smiled, relaxing for the first time in... a long time. Things were just like before.

XXXXX

The walk through Jade's towering home, and outside into the deep snows at it's base had been quite simply, pleasant. Immediately, the two old friends had returned to a causal demeanour, not exactly talking about the past or the present or anything especially important, but still having a good time.

Walking through the snow at the base of the tower, quietly laughing, Dave said,

"you know, ive been thinking,"

" _really_ ," Jade asked, "and what have you been thinking?"

"well, why do we have to breed _frogs_ of all things. I know sburb is like that really weird person at a majjyk the gathering tournament that's intolerably hipster, even by hipster standards, but still. Frogs." He replied, gesturing dramatically for emphasis

"well, i guess that's because the universe is a frog." Jade mused, rolling with the whole semi-playful nature of the discussion, "so therefore, we need to breed little baby frogs to make a big one."

"well isn't that an astounding leap of logic," Dave dryly stated,

Jade smiled. His composure broke and he grinned.

As they entered the forest, passing beneath really odd trees with almost bluish bark, he inwardly remarked on just how much better being able to banter with people in real life was. Pesterchum conversations with John and Rose and Jade were fine and all, but there was always something missing. Words on a screen were always just a little bit... hollow. He'd never noticed it before, since he never really got out much before sburb, but interacting with people in person was a staggeringly different and dare he say, cool, experience.

Hanging out with Jade especially, was pretty awesome. She had always been a kickass little sister to him, and, should he ever have decided to dress up in spandex and fight crime, she'd have been the person he'd have forcefully conscripted into his service as a cool crime-fighting partner, but in person, her easygoing nature and cheerful disposition was so vastly different than it was over pesterchum.

Following her up and over a particularly gnarled and twisted root, he smiled imperceptibly. If this was a taste of how dealing with John, and Rose was going to be, then he was hella onboard.

Finally, after yet more walking (and more backtracking than Jade would have liked to admit), they had arrived at what was the entrance to her denizen's lair, deep in the heart of the volcano-mountain.

The entrance was a cavernous cave opening, rising hundreds of feet above them. It was heavily rocky, with spikes of frozen ice hanging from it's gaping mouth, like the jaws of some vast beast. A warm breeze drifted leisurely from it's black depths, and Dave found himself thinking that perhaps, things might not be so bad after all.

Anything that would get him out of the snow.

Gesturing towards it in a faux gentlemanly fashion, he enquired of his companion, "shall we?"

Jade nodded, smiling at his antics.

Together, they descended the wooded hill they stood on, and entered the cave.

They walked in darkness for a moment, the only illumination being a dying light from the entrance somewhere behind them. Then, Dave uncaptchalogued his cell-phone, and used it's flashlight function to light their way. They followed the gently sloping dirt floor downwards in companionable silence, the warmth of the cave increasing the further they went.

Dave wasn't exactly sure of how far down they went, but it was clearly a good ways down. At some point, the light from the outside dimmed completely, and they were left with naught but their small bubble of light from his phone.

The walls soon grew slimy, and the temperature rose to a point where he captchalogued his coat, and partially unbuttoned his suit. Jade did likewise, removing her colourful coat, and rolling up her shirt sleeves. It was beginning to feel like a tropic jungle or something down there.

As the air grew unpleasantly humid, they finally came across something that wasn't slimy cave walls, or dirty cave floor. Before them, a pair of mammoth stone doors blocked the passage ahead. Each was intricately carved with minute engravings and pictures, and stood taller than a transit bus placed nose-down.

Jade took a semi-confident step forward.

He made to follow, but she raised her hand. "stay here," she whispered calmly, "i have to do this alone"

He was about to voice his (Rather negative and critical) opinion of sburb's stupid rules, but thought better of it. Nodding, he stepped back and let her do her thing.

Jade took several more steps towards the doors, and gently, as if being guided by something else, placed her hand in the center of the two stone slabs. Initially, nothing of note happened for a few moments, and Dave bet that she felt pretty foolish, but then a deep rumble echoed through the cave, dislodging dust from the roof, and shaking the walls.

A silvery space aspect symbol began to glow in the centre of the doors, and with glacial slowness, the two doors slowly parted in the middle, and began to open outwards, prompting Jade to step back hurriedly. The doors continued to slowly grind open until there was a gap in the middle just big enough for a person to fit through. At that point, they rumbled to a halt, and Jade approached the light-less gap, saying "i'll be back as soon as i can, everything should be okay"

Dave knew better than to argue with her. "good luck," he called out. "don't piss off your denizen, and get killed, ruining everything for everyone... no pressure or anything"

She smiled, and stepped through the gap.

Immediately, the doors began to slowly shift closed. He figured they'd open when she was done, so he wasn't especially worried. Besides, Jade was always a bit... odd, in that she always seemed to know more about things than she should have. About her denizen, she seemed dead-certain that things would pan out okay, so Dave doubted this would be the first time she'd be wrong about something.

With nothing better to do, he found a particularly comfortable looking rock, and sat down. Searching his phone for his preferred music editing app, he prepared to kill however much time it would take...

XXXXX

After he had made some progress on editing his newest and greatest song, (It was about the meaning of existence, kangaroos, and gratuitous smuppet visuals) the doors began to grind open.

Putting away his phone, and setting his masterful music editing aside, Dave stood up and watched as a narrow gap once more appeared between the two lumbering pieces of stone. Sure enough, as soon as the gap was wide enough, Jade stepped out, no worse for wear.

Imperceptibly, he smiled as she approached. "everything gone well?" he asked,

She hesitated for a moment, and replied "i... i guess so."

Noting her shaken discomfort, he asked, "what's wrong? i know my presence is as dazzling as a supernova and i have more charm than a million nicholas cages, but there's no need to be so dazzled by it."

Jade managed a weak smile, and she began to explain,

"i... i'm okay. it's just that talking to a denizen is... it's pretty intense stuff."

Dave walked closer to her, mildly concerned that she might suddenly faint or something. Her narcolepsy had thus far not made any major appearances, but at the moment, she looked shaky enough that he wanted to be able to catch her if she decided to suddenly introduce her cranium to the ground.

"i know what you mean," he said, "my denizen, Hephaestus, was very intense, in that way that only surly old people working in hardware stores can be."

"i'm fine," she waved him off, seeming to slowly get back to normal.

Beginning to walk back the way they came, and gesturing for him to follow, she began to explain things, "so, i walked in, and echidna talked to me."

Noting that the heat around them was beginning to increase uncomfortably, Dave asked, "did she give you ' **the choice** '"

"no, no choices at all, actually. she said that in our efforts to beat jack, we'd end up destroying the entire session, and everything in it. she seemed to think that we'd figure out a way to escape though, and her offer was that, in exchange for her lighting the forge, i would take her, and all the little consorts across all four planets with us," She replied,

Dave frowned thoughtfully, "so you agreed?"

"yes. she should be lighting the forge soon"

Just then, the cave around them shook, the walls rumbling and the temperature in the tunnel increasing significantly. More dust fell from the cave roof, and the humidity in the tunnel became ever more unbearable.

"well, she certainly seems to be quick and on the ball about these things" Dave noted,

Jade agreed, "yeah, maybe when we get back up there, the frogs will already be melted out."

Dave nodded, "that would certainly be convenient, like walking into a restaurant and finding out that your order's already been made seconds ago, but the people that ordered it threw a fit and walked out, so now you get it immediately." Shrugging, he added, "it's a shame that stuff in life never actually goes that way"

"yeah," she sighed, "it would be nice"

After yet more up-hill walking, the humidity lessened, and the temperature lowered to a more... comfortably warm level. Dave's phone light picked up small rivulets of water trickling down the dirt path, and he wondered if perhaps, the ice outside wasn't already melting. The further they walked, the more the tiny streams of water grew. By the time they could once again see the entrance to the cave, a shining light ahead of them, there was a sheet of water flowing downwards, and the dirt floor had turned muddy.

Dave was rather nonplussed about it, but Jade grumbled incoherently about getting her fluorescent shoes dirty and yucky. Smiling, Dave put away his phone, and they finally stepped out of the cave.

To say that ' _lighting the forge_ ' had caused ' _dramatic upheaval_ ' to the natural environment of the Land of Frost and Frogs, was an understatement. The ice and snow all across the cave's exterior had completely melted into slush and puddles of clear water. The formerly white tree-tops were now a lush sea-green, red flowers visible among their leaves.

Glancing around, Dave muttered, "well, that melted faster than off brand ice-cream in a broken fridge in the middle of an Austin mid-summer's heat wave."

Jade was about to reply, when her glasses beeped with the ever annoying pesterchum notification sound. Respectfully quieting down, Dave waited until she was done with browsing whatever she'd received.

Setting her glasses back to a clear state, she relayed what she had learned, "chester says that they're at the furthest frog's location. now that things are melting, he says they'll start dealing with the frogs, and move towards us."

"and we'll move towards them, and start with the closest frogs?" he suggested,

Jade nodded, "sounds good,"

Looking out at the expanse of melting snows and green foliage, Dave said, "well, lead on, we've got slimy amphibians to poke and prod."

XXXXX

Elsewhere, two boys made their way through a forest, trudging through miniature rivers of melting snow.

"It seems like we're always going from one shitty weather extreme to the other," Evan spat in annoyance, lumbering through sticky and shifting muck.

Chester nodded, saying "I've been on this planet the whole time. So I can't say too much. But yes. This is unpleasant weather."

They had started their mission by flying towards the vague area that Chester's helmet-map seemed to suggest that the furthest frog was residing in. The gist of the plan was that they'd wait by it until Jade got the 'forge stoked', or whatever stupid sburb activities she needed to do. Then, they would collect that frog, and work their way back towards the tower, while Jade and... Evan's new friend... the guy with the dark shades would head towards them. Ideally, they would all meet in the middle, head back to the tower, and figure out what to do from there.

They had eventually found the first frog, a fat, speckled, grey thing that was rather comically stuck inside a block of solid ice. The block sat inside a pleasantly shaded grove of the unusual bluish trees. Several larger boulders were strewn across the wooded clearing.

Since Jade had mentioned that they had to wait for the ice across the planet to melt, (and Chester didn't trust Evan to safely 'remove it from that dang block') they had both picked comfortable enough looking rocks, and settled down to wait.

They had taken the moment to catch up on each other's shenanigans. Chester was quite impressed and pleased that Evan had managed to make a new friend, one who wasn't a complete nutter for a change. Evan was satisfied that Chester hadn't mucked about and wasted time upon his arrival in a strange, new session, and had gotten plans together.

Eventually, the ground rumbled for a little bit, prompting Evan to immediately draw his sword, and leap to his feet, scanning the surroundings quickly and carefully. Chester chose not to comment on the fact that Evan had seemingly automatically manoeuvred himself between Chester and any potential enemies, approaching from the outside of the grove.

As quickly and suddenly as it had come, the rumbling had faded. Spending several more moments cautiously watching the treeline, in a manner closer to a hunting predator, rather than a defensive prey, Evan grunted and sheathed his chainsword.

Standing up aswell, Chester noticed that the temperature seemed to be rising subtly... Was that moisture that he could see, forming upon the block of ice?

Just then, the large mountain-volcano that Jade's grandpa had seen fit to build his giant house on launched a massive plume of ash into the air. Chester immediately scrambled to assume the 'duck and cover' position, squatting and covering his head with his hands and closing his eyes.

After a few moments, things got hotter, but no magma-wave or boiling ash-cloud related death came. Then, Evan nudged him somewhat gently with his boot.

"There's no eruption," he said, "it just let out a 'poof' of smoke"

Breathing a sigh of relief, Chester shakily stood. Evan patted him on the back roughly, "good job on the rapid response, by the way", he praised, "nice to see at least some of my lessons are taken to heart." Mildly exasperated, Chester sighed, "I read all your advice Evan. I took whatever seemed reasonable to heart." Glancing at his feet, he sarcastically added, "I doubt that knowing how to make improvised explosives using common kitchen ingredients is an especially critical skill."

Evan shrugged in something approximating content happiness, "That's a relief to hear, all this time i was thinking that all of my even simple fitness and survival tips were just bouncing off your smarmy arrogant hide"

Looking at his surroundings to verify his safety, Chester noticed that apart from the dissipating plume of grey ash, spreading lazily in the thinly clouded sky over the volcano, the skies were clear. Moreover, there were no massive lava flows streaming down the sides of the mountain. Whatever Jade had done, it didn't seem to have exploded the volcano or anything quite so dramatic.

Although, the temperature was increasing. Very quickly.

Already the block of ice holding the frog was barely solid, being little more than a slushy mess that was vaguely still holding the shape of a block. Acting partially on impulse, he approached the wet mess, and reached inside, immediately recoiling at the sharp coldness of the liquified ice. Mentally whipping himself onwards with imagined comments from Evan, he pushed his arm deeper, and once his fingers finally met something rubbery and solid.

Yanking his arm out, shivering profusely, he held a semi-frozen frog triumphantly.

Deciding that there was a greater than slim possibility that they would actually need the actual frogs themselves for something or other, he captchalogued it. Come to think of it, he wasn't entirely sure if his modus could actually keep a living being inside it without causing severe damage to it, but it was going to have to. They needed to get a move on.

Opening the map Jade had sent him on his helmet's screen and turning to Evan, he said "Come on. We have many other frogs to pick up."

Evan shrugged, "Lead the way"

Together, they set off through the thawing woods towards the next frog.

XXXXX

After much shivering, wandering, frog collecting, and trudging through deep slush, they had gotten more or less three quarters through the list of frogs.

Chester stood amidst densely grown trees in mild amusement as he watched Evan holding on halfway up a tree, arm stuck inside a crevice, trying to retrieve a particularly uncooperative frog. Grumbling and muttering quietly beneath his breath, Evan fidgeted in his lofty perch for a few more moments. Finally giving up, he rotated himself around, and called down "I can't reach it, the slippery bastard's too far in"

Suppressing a smirk beneath his helmet, and thankful for the windbreak provided by the surrounding trees, Chester called back, "Now what? Shall I pass you a stick or something?"

Evan paused thoughtfully, and called back, "Nah, i think I've got a plan"

Suddenly losing his smirk as Evan sharply turned around, Chester anxiously said, "Uh... Evan. What are you planning?"

Ignoring his protests completely, his friend pulled his arm out of the hole, before swiftly slamming it back in, fingers curled in a fist. The upper portion of the blueish tree exploded into splinters, and Chester awkwardly flailed to cover himself with his arms.

When the dust settled, and he exited his pose of stark terror, lowering his arms and again being thankful for his useful helmet, Chester saw Evan back on the ground. The other boy approached with measured strides, stuck out his arm, and offered him an unharmed frog.

Snatching it out of his hand, Chester frantically inspected it for any harm, before protectively captchaloguing it once he was satisfied with his inspection. "You bloody nutcase." he scolded, "You could have harmed the frog. You do know that _for whatever bloody reason_ they are needed to make a whole universe or something like that. Shaking them around and potentially damaging them could have catastrophic consequences."

Grumbling under his breath, he added, "Not that you would care about any of that. Obviously."

"Hey," Evan protested, "I made sure the frog was fine, i know you nerds need it for your sciencey technobabble"

"Whatever. At least your reckless irresponsibility has not caused lasting damage this time." he grumbled in response. Pulling open the 'frog map', as he'd taken to dubbing it, Chester glanced at the next closest frog, which was about a few hundred meters west from them, in the general direction of Jade's tower. The problem was, that there was a dense thicket separating them, and going around looked problematic and lengthy.

Just then, a particularly evil and environmentally unfriendly plan came to mind. Grabbing Evan's sleeve lightly, he gestured towards a thickly grown clump of trees and said, with a barely hidden grin, "The next frog is somewhere on the other side of that... blockage. I do wonder if you could... make that obstruction passable."

Evan likewise smiled, and drew his chainsword, taking a moment to admire it before revving the awful deathtrap of a weapon, and sprinting into the tree grove, sending shards of wood and sawdust flying in all directions. Eventually, the cloud began to fade, and the awful metallic screech of the madman's weapon fell silent.

Chester took this as his cue to move through the removed annoyance. ' _Sometimes_ ', he remarked, ' _having Evan on hand is very convenient, indeed._ '

Stepping through the pile of shredded and obliterated wood, he shuddered at the sight of the savagely ripped apart and mangled tree trunks. It was staggering to see the full scope of what Evan's crazy sword could do.

Exiting on the other side of the shredded trees, Chester found himself in a more thinly forested area, on the edges of the forest. This was quite close to both the mountain and Jade's tower, which loomed overhead before him, rising over the few trees that covered the area.

Evan, meanwhile, was leaning over... well, it was either a small pond or a big puddle. Regardless, he withdrew a wet arm from it, and casually tossed a thin, leaf-green frog to him. Chester floundered to catch it, arms flailing in the air. It had hit his hands, bounced off, and then somehow still ended up in his grasp.

Captchaloguing it in a hurry, before he could drop it or something, Chester scowled at Evan's light bemusement at the situation. "...Shut up." He grumbled, "I know I'm shit at athletic pursuits. You don't need to remind me."

Shaking his head lightly, Evan faintly smiled, "I didn't say anything..." he trailed off knowingly,

"Don't start with me." Chester grumbled, mentally checking off another frog and consulting his visor-map for the next one's location. His lengthy navigational attempts were interrupted when a familiar voice came from the trees at the edge of the forest.

"hey! chester! and...evan?"

Immediately minimizing the map screen, he whirled around to gaze at the voice's origin point. Standing there, between the trees and slush were two familiar figures...

XXXXX

Within a thinly wooded glade, Jade Harley and Dave Strider looked across the clearing at the only other two people on the planet.

Happily waving, Jade walked across the still wet and mushy grass, happy at the comfortable warmth now that the forge was doing it's thing. "hey guys!" she called as she approached.

Chester's friend... Evan, was standing next to a large puddle, disinterestedly eyeing his surroundings. Chester meanwhile, was awkwardly waving back, and after a brief pause of hesitation, made to meet her in the middle.

Dave by her side, Jade sloshed happily towards Chester, and once she was close enough, ran up and hugged him. She knew it made him uncomfortable, but she was just happy to see that Jack hadn't killed anyone else. Out of some degree of pity, she let him go rather quickly, smiling despite herself at his discomfort.

"so how did you guys do?" she asked, happy as ever, the crushing weight of Echidna's seemingly impossible to fulfil bargain momentarily forgotten.

Chester, who was now joined by his friend with the grey overcoat and the odd purple cape, said in a still awkward and slow tone, "Well. We managed to interact with seventy percent of the frogs so far. I have been collecting them as well in case we need the real frogs for any reason."

Jade beamed, "this is the one you guys just got?" she asked,

Chester nodded, "We just got it moments ago. Why?"

Dave stepped in, "well, it just so happens that we've gotten all the others that were close to us, like the helpful and awesome people that we are"

She nodded, "since you have the rest, i guess that means we're done!"

Evan stepped up, agreeing, "Great, let's go, I'm already bored out of my skull" Turning to Dave, he asked, "Now that the nerds have their frogs, can we go back? I want to kill something, or build something, or do something"

Shaking his head, Chester muttered, "I'm honestly kinda impressed you've staved off boredom this long."

Dave agreed, saying to Chester, "yeah, he never struck me as overly patient. heck, i think i've seen hyperactive birds with pea-sized brains that could hold their attention and body still for longer periods of time"

Evan simply stood still and gave them both a dry, withering stare of abject boredom, with just a hint of annoyance bubbling below the surface. Deciding not to agitate Chester's friend too much, Jade interjected, "well i think we're mostly done here, we can head back now, right?"

Dave shrugged and glanced at Chester, who also made a non-committal gesture and muttered something along the lines of "...I guess so."

Evan sighed in relief, and Jade smiled, exclaiming, "great! we can all hang out at the tower now, and do frogy science stuff, and talk, and do other interesting stuff"

Glancing at the tower, Dave muttered, "well then ms. frog-expert, lead the way"

Still energetic and happy, Jade turned around and began to lead the group back to her home, looming overhead like a silent white sentinel. She completely missed the brief and subtle green flash from behind. She also missed the swift 'whoosing' noise, and the soft 'thump' that announced the arrival of a heavy object landing on the ground...

It was only when Evan's terrifying weapon roared, and the other three members of the group made varying cries of alarm, that she whirled around, reflexively uncaptchaloging her trusty scoped hunting rifle and bringing it to bear...

Just a few dozen feet away, Evan was locked sword to sword against the object of everyone in the session's deepest fears. Jack Noir. The sovereign slayer.

The towering winged carapacian had taken on canine features due to bec's prototyping and it made him all the more terrifying. Cold silver eyes stared hatefully down a scarred and sharp muzzle. Raven-black wings spread imposingly behind behind it, spread to their full width and covering Evan in shadow. The tattered remnants of Dersite garb still clung to it's muscular and enlarged frame.

A few heartbeats later, Jack vanished in a flash of baleful green light. Jade nervously tightened her grip on her rifle, as she shuffled closer to the group. Dave and Chester both had weapons drawn as well, and both backed towards her.

She chose not to comment on the ghostly whispers emanating from Chester's black and silvered rifle.

"What... What the hell was that?" Chester breathed,

"that, that my friend, is our resident teleporting murder. kinda like most of stephen kings characters, except hes kinda a dog" Dave replied, still managing to keep to his personal style of humour. Even then though, his voice had the slightest shake to it, and Jade noticed how he kept adjusting his grip on his cueball-sword.

Evan meanwhile, was still confused by Jack's disappearance, and was continuously turning and scanning the clearing. His... chainsaw... sword continued to slowly revolve, emitting a terrible mechanical growl.

He stood apart from herself and the others, and made no effort to join the group.

"don't think we could just offer him a biscuit or something in exchange for going away, huh?" Dave muttered quietly, trying to lighten the situation.

Jade opened her mouth to reply, but any thoughts she might have had were instantly cut off as Jack appeared again, another flash of green light heralding his arrival.

Appearing behind the wary and circling Evan, the raven-black monster immediately kicked the aggressive kid away before he could react. Before either she or Chester could properly aim to shoot, Jack had launched himself at them, blade flashing. Only Dave, who moved himself between them and Jack saved the two of them from instant death.

Jade knew Dave was pretty handy with his sword, but even then, he was hard pressed against Jack. Within moments they had exchanged a few blows, Dave's precise and calculated, Jack's furious and powerful.

Then, another Dave appeared in a flash of whirling red gears and light. And another, and another. Together, the four of them pushed Jack from all sides, forcing the canine killer to teleport away again, with a snarl of hatred for their efforts.

Jade barely had a moment to breathe, let alone comment on Dave's past and future selves showing up to help when Jack appeared again, a few feet to Evan's side. This time, she was ready for the green flash, and as soon as it came she had put several shots through the disorienting light. Yet, Jack seemed completely unharmed.

Before she could do anything else, he lunged at Evan, who met the charge head on, sword revved. Just before their blades met, Jack vanished, then reappeared behind Evan. With nothing more than a swift flash, his dark blade erupted from Evan's chest.

Then once again, Jack was gone.

Torn between shock and horror, Jade gasped, while an alternate timeline Dave clad in a green felt suit rushed to assist the downed boy, who had sunk to one knee, red staining the front of his coat.

Brushing him off gruffly, Evan shakily rose again, incoherently snarling under his breath. His chainsaw-sword was beginning to tremble in barely suppressed anger as his breathing turned heavier.

Just then, another green flash came on the other side of them. Both Jade and Chester managed to react fast enough to fire at the rogue Dersite as soon as he appeared. A stream of both bullets and wispy, ghostly blasts hit him dead on... only to pass harmlessly through him, as Jack turned a faint green colour, and became ever-so-slightly transparent.

With a snarl, Jack leapt towards the three of them again, only to, once again, be intercepted by two of the other Daves, one in red, the other in his normal t-shirt and pants. Seemingly acting as one, they both approached from either side, before lunging and thrusting at the same moment. For a brief second, it almost seemed as if they had him. He could only possibly block one of them.

Again Jack's body turned ghostly and transparent, and one Dave who had overextended his reach outright fell through jack... straight onto the other Dave's sword.

Said Dave's look of pure horror and shock lasted only seconds before Jack's sword separated his head from his shoulders. In yet another flash of green, the killer was gone.

Moments later, both Daves toppled to the ground in a heap, dead.

Jade screamed.

Dave (the... real one?) said nothing but turned pale as a sheet.

Chester was still and deathly silent beneath his helmet, but his gun was very shaky.

Another green flash heralded Jack's arrival once again, and Jade swung her rifle to face him, wildly firing with reckless abandon. This time, Jack did not even bother to dodge, simply weaving through her bullets with great speed.

Seeing him, Evan raised his quickly revolving sword and released a guttural roar, charging furiously to meet his foe head on. Just before the two met, a blinding beam of deathly energy shot past Jade, sending chills down her spine, and carved a wide glassy trench where Jack was running. Unsurprisingly, the beam passed harmlessly through the canine murderer, devastating the surrounding area as a side effect.

Moments after Jack 'phased in', he closed with Evan, and the two exchanged a flurry of savage blows, sparks raining to the ground due to the chainsaw's effects on metal. Suddenly, taking even Jack by surprise, Evan punched forwards with his free hand as hard as he could.

His fist hit his opponent in the chest, and to everyone's surprise actually made contact. A sickening crack was heard, and a heartbeat later Jack was gone in yet another green flash.

Lowering his sword, Evan smirked grimly.

Then, another green flash came from behind him, and before Evan could even react, a furious Jack sent his sword a half dozen times through his back. The nearby green-suited Dave rushed forwards, sword raised, but was swiftly dispatched with a kick and several stabs from Jack. He too, fell to the ground, dead.

A near-crazed Jade filled the area Jack occupied with bullets, but the killer was already gone again. In frantic desperation, she captchalogued her rifle, and swapped it out for the _**Green Sun Streetsweeper**_ , an energy-based assault weapon she'd made earlier in the game.

Unconsciously, she, Dave, and Chester shuffled closer together. All were frantically scanning their surroundings, and stood back to back. For a few tense, horrifying moments, everything was completely still and quiet. The three of them shakily scanned side-to-side, pushing all their available senses to their limits, straining to find even a hint of Jack's next location.

His next location, as it turned out, was right in the middle of them.

At the green flash, all three whirled around to face the center of their small circle. It didn't help. Jade was swept off her feet with a solid punch to her face, Dave rushed to attack Jack, but was kicked in the chest, and knocked backwards.

That just left Chester in easy stabbing range of Jack. Chester, who had a long, awkward gun. Throwing himself backwards, he narrowly avoided Jack's sweeping slash. The canine was then interrupted by a flurry of green energy blasts from the still prone Jade. None even came close to connecting, but Jack teleported away.

The three staggered to their feet as best they could.

"are you guys okay?" Jade coughed, holding her head with one hand,

"fine as someone that's been punted by a giant wolf" Dave shakily muttered, eyeing his surroundings again,

"...Alright." Chester muttered, shakily rising and sweeping his... ghost-weapon-rifle across the clearing.

After that, they all fell silent again. Warily watching their surroundings.

It did not take long for Jack to appear again. Another flash of light appeared to Jade's left. Twirling on her heel, energy-weapon primed and ready, she turned just in time to see the limp form of one of the dead Daves flying at her and the very much still living real Dave.

Bowled over by the body and pinned to the ground, she had a clear, if upside down, view of Chester. He was the only one still standing at that point, and he reached down to help her up after making sure the coast was clear.

That, was when Jack re-appeared. First, she saw a green flash. Then, just as she opened her mouth to warn Chester, a black sword erupted from his chest. She froze in shock.

Pulling his sword back, and letting the attached body crumple to the ground, Jack turned to face Dave who had gotten to his feet. Without any pomp or circumstance, the two met and exchanged blows.

Jack Noir had seemingly endless reserves of endurance, and continued to swing his black sword with great force again and again. Dave parried and blocked and avoided the blows as best he could, but the torrent of attacks never let up, and he was beginning to tire and slow with every successive sword rattling hit.

Finally, the cavalcade of blows led up to a single almost vertical cut, that ended up breaking Dave's grip on his sword, and sending it flying beyond his reach. Dave was fast though, and back-stepped quickly, while uncaptchaloging his twin turntables and setting them to attack Jack.

They delayed him for a full two seconds, one falling in a shower of sparks to a powerful slash, then the other. Before Dave could do anything else, Jack closed the distance between them with a single flap of his powerful wings. His rapid approach was followed by a heavy punch that sent Dave sprawling on the ground.

Towering over him, Jack raised his sword for a downward strike...

Moments before the blade fell, a very angry grey form suddenly slammed into Jack from the side, sending them both to the ground. For a few moments, a very much alive and very much angry Evan and a very surprised Jack Noir were locked in a tangled mess of punching and grappling limbs. Moments later, a green flash lit up the clearing, and Jack had moved to a standing position a few dozen feet away.

A very battered and heavily bleeding Evan then shakily rose to his feet, helped by the already standing Dave. Glancing at his sword, which was lying on the ground some distance away, Dave shrugged and simply uncaptchalogued a new one, albeit one that was moderately worse. Evan meanwhile, had his chainsword drawn and revolving, and a murderous glower on his features.

Sharing an unseen nod, the two began to slowly approach Jack, who was simply standing some paces away, and watching them motionlessly. Just as they got halfway, Evan suddenly dropped his sword parallel with the ground, and while Jade and Dave looked on in mild confusion, fired a shot from a hidden barrel that ran down the length of the chainsaw box.

Jack, for all his limited omniscience, did not see such a move coming, and was hit directly in the left shoulder. With a snarl and a flash, he disappeared.

Evan and Dave glanced at each other and shared a brief nod of success. Perhaps, the murderer would run off to lick his wounds. Still, they were both on guard.

Suddenly, before either of them could even react, another green flash illuminated the battlefield, and Jack appeared directly behind Dave. Without missing a beat, the winged killer promptly delivered a series of stabs to Dave's back. As the cool-kid crumpled and fell, surprise etched upon his features, Evan turned with a growl of rage to face Jack.

Meanwhile, Jade had extricated herself from... the other Dave's body, only to see the real Dave perforated with several stabs in quick succession. A cry of despair left her mouth as she wrathfully raised the street-sweeper to blast Jack, before lowering it a fraction because Evan was in the way.

Evan and Jack went at each other with mutual unrestrained fury. Their blades clashed so fast that Jade couldn't even track the individual sword movements. A rain of sparks fell from the chainsword as Evan battered away at Jack's guard.

Just as it appeared that Jack was giving ground in the face of an assault from a Prince of Rage, he vanished. Immediately, Evan whirled around, chainsaw teeth spinning furiously, only to narrowly block a strike from Jack, who had manoeuvred behind him. The two exchanged yet more savage blows, this time more evenly with neither giving an inch.

Stepping back suddenly, Evan punched with his free hand, leading to Jack moving to avoid it. Yet, Evan did not actually throw a punch. His free hand stopped, a curious tiny flame flickered to life at the tip of a barely visible device on-top of the glove, and then a torrent of fire erupted from the glove, engulfing Jack.

To Evan's surprise, the sovereign slayer was unaffected by the fire, stepping from the flickering and crackling flames in a semi-translucent state. Jack lunged forwards, sword swinging wide, yet, when Evan moved to block, Jack vanished in a green flash. Moments later, another green flash came, and Jack's sword once again erupted from Evan's Chest.

Still not yet dead, Evan grunted in pain and uncaptchalogued a heavy hunting knife. Weapon in hand, he thrust it behind his head where he knew Jack's muzzle would be. Yet, the expected pained reaction never came. Jack had once again become intangible.

With another brief green flash, both Jack and his sword vanished, leaving Evan to fall to the ground unceremoniously. With the duelling combatants... separated, Jade now had a clear shot, but Jack was no longer present at the moment.

Tears streaming down her face, her breaths haggard and her aim shaking, Jade swept the energy gun side-to-side, hunting for the murderer of her friends. Another flash of light came, and Jack Noir appeared, black wings spread widely, just a few dozen feet away from her.

Ever so slowly, he began to walk towards her, blade held towards the ground, gaze firm and level. "i hate you!" Jade sobbed, as she fired a flurry of green-sun powered energy blasts at the approaching carapacian.

None even came close to connecting, and Jack didn't even flinch as one passed near his face. Covering the remaining distance between them in a few long strides, he loomed over her silently, wings casting wide shadows on the slushy ground.

Jade was sobbing quietly, her shoulders were shaking, but she raised the gun again, and aiming it center mass at the monster standing before her. Gritting her teeth, she held down the trigger and emptied what remained of it's charge into Jack's chest.

The semi-first guardian carapacian simply became intangible again, and every last blast passed harmlessly through him. For a few moments after her weapon ran dry, they both stood there, locked eye-to-eye, just staring at each other. Jack growled at her faintly, before the growl died in his throat. Analytically looking at her for a few more moments, with a cunning gleam of malevolent intelligence in his eyes, Jack huffed, and took off into the sky with a single mighty beat of his wings.

Jade quietly watched him fly away, before teleporting in a burst of emerald light once he was nearly too far away to see. Tears still trailed down her face as she looked at the dead bodies of four Daves, Chester and ...Chester's friend.

A patch of ground was still on fire from Evan's duel with the monster, and a long glassy trench marked where Chester had tried to blast Jack with a powerful beam of some kind. Nearly mad with despair and grief, she sank to her knees, her long socks immediately becoming soaked in the slushy terrain.

She knew why Jack had spared her. Or, at least, she figured she knew. When bec prototyped himself to save her from the meteor, he had given parts of his powers, as well as his basic traits to enemies inside sburb, most notably, the Kings and Queens of Prospit and Derse, who gained the powers of the sprites through the rings they wore.

Jade never even realized that theft of a ring by another carapacian was possible, until Jack murdered the black Queen and stole her ring. Bec's prototyping, had given extremely limited first guardian powers to the basic enemies, which made little difference, and more notably, fairly intact first guardian powers to the bearers of the rings, which made Jack Noir completely unbeatable.

What Jack had also inherited from bec, was all the love and loyalty that a dog had for it's human. In retrospect, it should have been no surprise that Jack could not have harmed her.

' _which_ ', she remarked, ' _made it all the more awful_ '

Staring at the ground, still shaking and quietly sobbing, she whispered, "why me?"

"why does everyone else have to die, while i get stupid undeserved bullshit to let me live?" she quietly demanded,

Tearfully staring at the ground, she completely missed the two soft lights enveloping two of the bodies...

XXXXX

Elsewhere, in a quite different session entirely, upon a green moon, in an opulent and elegant, yet tastefully humble emerald mansion, inside an upper floor study, where an array of magnificent grandfather clocks stood side-by-side, quiet and lifeless in the dim light, two clocks suddenly came to life.

One bore the purple symbol of the Rage aspect upon it's pendulum bob, while the other bore the aspect of space. Each had a moon dial at the top of it's clock face that shifted with each swing of the pendulum from ' **heroic** ' to ' **just** '.

Alone amongst their silent brothers, the two clocks continued to tick and tock between themselves, as if laughing at a private joke.

Elsewhere in the room, staring out of a ornate and gilded window, framed by marvellous curtains of Jade velvet, a lone figure stood. Clad in an impeccably tailored snow-white suit, with an emerald tie and vest, the cueball-headed figure contemplatively stared out of the window into the hauntingly beautiful, meteor devastated corpse of Alternia.

Behind him, the two clocks continued their rhythmic melody.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

...

As one, both clocks fell silent.

The figure did not need to turn around to know what their displays read, what decision the clocks had come to. He already knew.

Leisurely, with the air of one who had all the time in the world ( **And please do believe me, dear reader, I most certainly do.** ) the figure gently remarked to seemingly itself,

"Just.

As.

Planned."


	38. AII: Intermission 1: An Excellent Host

_**A/N: Salutations ladies and gentlemen, I have returned, with a new chapter. This was initially going to be something else, but then I realized I didn't have a good enough context and lead up to the intended chapter and... well... this sort of came into existence somewhere along the way. Curiously enough, this is the exact same insertion point for an intermission as in Act 1. Huh, mostly unintentional but neat.**_

 _ **Anyway, things are busy, but going well enough. Thank you all for reading and sticking with me, please review if it tickles your fancy, I own nothing save the OC's and the majjyk camper (It Comes...) and yeah, I hope you all enjoy.**_

 **Earlier...**

Upon a green moon, orbiting the distant, desolate wasteland of dead hive blocks and evaporated oceans that was the meteor-blasted planet of Alternia, an exquisite Emerald Mansion stood.

Within the mansion, in a third-floor sitting room, a lone, tastefully dressed figure contemplatively sat still in a deep green armchair. To a casual observer, it would appear that the cueball-headed figure was dead. This was, of course, far from the case.

The good doctor was merely waiting.

Any observer with a vague understanding of the 'great game', as it was, and the nature of the intertwining timelines that were exponentially growing in both scope and complexity, would have erroneously assumed that he was waiting for the deaths of the Mage of Space, and of the Prince of Rage, and for their clocks (the acquisition of which was no easy matter) to render final judgement upon them. Nothing and Heroic, respectively.

However, in the labyrinthine schemes of both the good doctor, and his soon-to-arrive unwitting guest, there was no room for such a... pedestrian understanding of the great game of pretend that all of the major figures played between themselves.

At that moment, a rather droll thought struck him, and if he had a mouth, or rather, anything resembling a face, he would have smiled, ever-so-slightly. The doctor instead settled for an imperceptible tilt of his head.

Turning to face a seemingly invisible observer, the doctor spoke, " **Greetings, valued reader and guest. I bid you welcome to my abode.** "

Rising from his chair, and approaching the window, arms folded behind his back, he explained, " **I apologize for not sharing the...** _ **joke**_ **with you. That was rather rude of me. Although, I was inevitably going to share it with you anyway, so I hope that you can understand. After all, a good host does not do things that would displease his valued guests.** "

Contemplatively staring out the window, onto the limited grounds of the mansion, and the depths of space below, he continued, " **I merely find it... amusing. The horrorterrors have their own agenda in this, you know. Under ordinary circumstances, they are the curators of dead and failed sessions, unmaking them to make room for more prosperous ones to bloom. But they know what is coming. They can feel my master's inevitable approach.**

 **And they are**

 **Oh.**

 **So.**

 **Very.**

 **Frightened.**

 **I do not blame them, really. I suppose that if I was in their place, and knew the end that was inexorably coming, I too, would be frightened. Though, mortality is rather difficult for me to comprehend, to be perfectly candid. Under current circumstances, I would welcome death, even. But I stray from the point, my apologies.**

 **Because of course, that is not the humorous part of this. I am getting to that. You see, the horrorterrors have began a most unorthodox plan. In a desperate attempt to save themselves. The Rose girl, you are familiar with her, yes?** "

Not really allowing a reply, the Doctor continued,

" **Of course you are. Regardless, the Rose girl is whom the horrorterrors have chosen as their agent and tool within the session. She will be manipulated by them until she is fit for direct corruption by them. At that point, she will be under their direct control. This will greatly increase their ability to manipulate events in their favour.** "

Pausing for a few moments, the Doctor exclaimed, " **Yes, Yes. The joke, I am getting to it. You see, the horrorterrors expect me to engage in counter-manipulating the Rose girl. Both to mine own ends, and to deprive them of their only tool to affect the session... That is the joke you see. I will take no such actions... Ha Ha Hee Hee Hoo Hoo** "

When no such laughter came from the readers, the good Doctor tilted his head in a slight manner that resembled disappointment, and explained, " **Very well. For the sake of continuing to be an excellent host, I will explain the joke further. ...What is that expression you humans use? ...Ah, yes. I remembered it instantly. In a way, I am giving them enough rope to hang themselves with. I am freely giving the horrorterrors exactly the result they think they want, without any semblance of resistance on my part. The humour in this act, is that this very plan of theirs is the one that will ultimately doom them. With no action of any sort from me.** "

Unmoving, he added, " **In a way, it is made even more humorous, and rather ironic as well, given the events that are about to transpire in... about a few more moments.** "

Standing perfectly still, he tilted his head slightly in a now familiar gesture that vaguely radiated amusement. Still facing the window, he asked, " **Would you like to hear another humorous statement?** "

XXXXX

Upon a green moon that orbited the now very much dead Alternia, a lone robed figure stood, intently gazing at the emerald mansion that rose from the moon's surface.

Beneath her black hood, the figure scowled. She had arranged so many events, so many contrived coincidences to get this plan to work, and at every turn these blasted children failed disastrously.

It was as if they were _trying_ to fail.

She had hardly arranged the arrival of three more players in the session, only for one to near-immediately die.

...Well, he was _going_ to die.

...Or, was he already dead?

Time beyond the comfortable confines of a session was impossible to measure at best. That is, in the few and randomly changing parts of the furthest ring where pockets of time even existed.

Still, she was getting off track.

Ahead, lay the domain of her enemy's greatest servant. Under ordinary circumstances, if everything had gone according to plan, she would always be as far away from there as possible. However, she now needed to go straight into it's black heart, in order to undo the failings of her human instruments.

Operating by proxy was regrettable and greatly irritating, but being dead, it was the only option left to her. She couldn't enter 'real-space' anymore, and had to content herself with lurking inside the furthest ring, where ghosts from a doomed timeline could still exist.

Sharply looking up, her empty eyes narrowed.

Finally, it was time.

Smoothing her grey and black robes instinctively, she cautiously made her way to the ornate building. This would be... dangerous and difficult. But, after all, what did she have left to lose?

Her life?

XXXXX

Within the mansion, in a very familiar upper-floor study, a lone figure continued to gaze out of a window, patiently awaiting your return...

" **Ah, you have returned.** " The Doctor commented, " **Now, back to the second humorous statement. As you are obviously aware, there is another force manipulating events in these two joined sessions. Besides myself and the horrorterrors, I mean. They are responsible for the recent influx of yet more humans to join our rapidly increasing cast of children. But you already knew that, of course. I certainly did. Ha Ha Hee Hee Hoo Hoo** "

Trailing off in silence for a few more moments, the Doctor continued his monologue, " **Two of this third power's unwitting human pawns will soon die, and their god-tier clocks will render judgement upon them accordingly. Much like myself, you know all this, you were already a guest of mine before. Or, rather, you soon will be a guest of mine."**

Still standing ramrod straight, arms folded crisply behind his back, the Doctor continued to speak, " **Speaking of that, I must ask you to take a seat over there, and remain as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. Your past self, as well as my awaited guest will both soon be visiting. Being an excellent host, it would be grossly irresponsible of me to allow your past and current selves to interact.** "

Briefly gesturing to a plush and expansive green sofa at the other end of the room, nestled comfortably between two bookcases and facing the fireplace, the Doctor resumed his monologue to the empty room, " **You needn't worry about being too still for too long. Your past self will just be visiting for a brief time. He, or rather, you will return later, and complete this time-loop. Although, I am quite sure we both already knew that, didn't we?** "

Folding his white gloved hands behind his back again, the good Doctor said, " **Now then, back to the joke. I do so love jokes, don't you?** "

XXXXX

Within the mansion's many elaborate and ornate hallways and rooms, a black robed figure stealthily crept...

She had made her way through an unlocked window, and through several richly-furnished rooms and a side corridor. Peculiarly, she had not spotted any signs of security or patrols. The robed figure was well aware of the odd felt mob leprechaun creatures that were employed by the mansion's current owner.

Yet, none of the bumbling creatures had even been seen on her trek upwards, towards the upper-floor room where she knew the god-tier clocks would be. She was certainly intelligent enough to deduce that the lack of any patrols or security measures were not from overconfidence or arrogance. A sinking feeling in her chest accompanied her thoughts of whether or not she was playing into the puppet's gloved hands through her actions.

( **Believe me, dear guest. It dosen't matter what she does. Two things are truly constant in this universe. The immutable fact that I always remain an excellent host, and that the power of inevitability remains firmly in my favour. On an unrelated note, is this not a much more convenient way to communicate? I certainly think so.** )

Still, she supposed it didn't matter very much one way or the other. She had very specific goals, and she would accomplish them, regardless of if her actions were already accounted for. "Damned smug, omnipotent, sock-puppet.", she growled quietly under her breath.

( **I take offence to that derogatory term. Regardless, I must express genuine respect for her ability to keep her plans concealed from me, even now. Of course, I have not tried especially hard to deduce her intentions. Having things that I do not know is a rather stimulating experience, and I would savour it while I may. Her plans are irrelevant, regardless. My master's arrival is merely a formality that must be observed. For all intents and purposes, he is already here...** )

Turning her thoughts to less displeasing topics, she decided that no matter what happened, her plan would still continue as intended. She didn't spend... what felt like several eternities within the timeless expanse of the furthest ring plotting, after all. This needed to be done flawlessly. They would only get one chance to do this...

Slightly increasing her pace, she rounded a turn, and hurriedly moved up an incredibly old and ornate staircase. Cresting the top, she took several measured steps down the length of the hall.

Her query was just up ahead...

XXXXX

Within a nearby room...

The doctor continued to stare outside of the window, still standing as motionlessly as a statue. His monologue, continued in an uninterrupted fashion,

" **An interesting parallel to note here, is how this situation mirrors that in which the thief and the seer found themselves in. Both were caught in a web of unspoken bluffs and gambles, each having tried to out-fox the other. Not through action or plans, but through the prediction of one's intent. Both had offered silent dares to the other. Challenges to act or to not act. Naturally, one inevitably assumed incorrectly, and received a sword through the chest for her troubles. The both of them were fools, really. Gambling with things beyond their knowledge or control. This is why I am not a gambling man.** "

Behind him, against the far wall, a row of grandfather clocks stood silently, watching over the room and it's occupants like a row of stalwart sentinels.

XXXXX

Outside the room, a hooded figure crept ever closer to a specific door, inwardly dreading what (or, rather, _whom_ ) she would find on the other side.

XXXXX

Meanwhile...

Upon a Land of Frost and Frogs, a Mage had just fallen, black sword extending from his chest, and a Prince would not be far behind...

XXXXX

Within the green room, the doctor shuffled side-to-side ever so minutely, before resuming his speech, the empty room standing as witness.

" **Of course, you would know nothing of such events, as due to the exceedingly complicated meddling that this timeline has experienced, many initially predestined events will not come to pass. I simply thought that was an amusing parallel. Now then, the punch-line of the long-awaited joke. Much like the foolish Seer and arrogant Thief, myself and my awaited guest are also in such a contest of wills. I am certain that you could guess at the details of such a standoff, but since you know so little, I will simply state that she has... altered events in this timeline, and I have countered by arranging a... removal of her pawns. All that remains now, is to see how she responds..."**

Suddenly, among the row of ornate Grandfather clocks by the far wall, two clocks suddenly came to life.

One bore the purple symbol of the Rage aspect upon it's pendulum bob, while the other bore the aspect of space. Each had a moon dial at the top of it's clock face that shifted with each swing of the pendulum from ' **heroic** ' to ' **just** '.

Alone amongst their silent brothers, the two clocks continued to tick and tock between themselves, as if laughing at a private joke.

Tick.

Tock.

Upon the first back-swing of the pendulums, the door to the room slowly and silently shifted open. The doctor made no move from his position at the window, not giving any signs at all that he was even aware of his guest's arrival.

Tick.

The door opened a slight bit further, and stopped. Something on the other side was clearly listening for any movement or noise.

Tock.

Satisfied, the door opened further, and admitted a figure swathed in black robes into the room. The figure took several quiet steps towards the ticking clocks, before freezing on the spot in mute alarm. The motionless Doctor had been noticed. One hand instinctively was withdrawn into the robes, clutching for some unseen weapon. Yet, after several tense moments, the Doctor made no moves or noises. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be a stone-cold statue, oblivious to his surroundings.

Tick.

A suspicious glare that could melt stone was cast at the white-suited host, as the robed 'guest' seemed torn with indecision. Stiffening slightly as a decision was reached, the remaining steps towards the two clocks were taken.

Tock.

Reaching out, she quickly moved the pendulum of the rightmost of the ticking clocks. It's moon-dial changed accordingly, from the sunny gold of 'heroic', to a thin colourless sliver between the two judgement options.

...

As one, both clocks fell silent.

After several tense moments, she cast another suspicious glace at the stoic and immobile doctor, who continued his silent vigil at the window. Quietly, and with great discretion, she crept back towards the slightly ajar door, and slipped out, into the quiet of the corridor beyond.

Her plan was done, and the mistakes of her irredeemably foolish pawns had been rectified. With no-one else in the room, the Doctor moved slightly, and gently remarked to seemingly himself,

"Just.

As.

Planned."

A few more moments were spent staring out the window in silent contemplation. Then, arbitrarily, the Doctor turned and gracefully moved towards his chosen velvety green armchair, taking a seat with every indication of comfort.

" **Now then** ," he commented, " **Since your past self has left our company, I suppose that I can spare a few moments more of my time to speak with you. I suppose that, due to the aforementioned manipulations of this timeline, you have not learned of the functions of the God-tier clocks."**

 **"** **Nor,"** he continued, **"do you understand the concept of 'conditional immortality, by which the God-tiers abide. The premise of their immortality, lies in the fact that they will not age beyond a certain point, and neither disease nor famine will fell them. Curiously however, a God-tier is still rather vulnerable to all manner of physical injuries and damages. Though they might have marginally more durable bodies, they die as easily as any other mortal... The difficult part,"** he explained, folding his gloved hands in his lap, **"is making them stay deceased. For you see, the term 'conditional immortality', is tied to the rather expensive clocks in this room. Upon death, a God-tier is judged. The circumstances of their death are evaluated through unknowable and especially eldritch procedures. If they are felled fighting an Evil or corrupt adversary, or otherwise lay down their life to protect others, the death is Judged as 'heroic'. If they themselves are corrupt or Evil, or have preformed rather... unsavoury actions, their death is judged as 'Just'."**

Reclining in his chair, the Doctor finished, " **If either a Just or Heroic verdict is reached, the player will die. Permanently. However, in the event that the God-tier's demise is judged to be neither of the two, the player will simply return to life in a conveniently dramatic flash of light. Though, it certainly should be noted that, while a judgement may be sentenced by the barest of margins, it is no less absolute than one which is quite clear-cut. For example, imagine if you will, a player who just so happens to be a rather skilled fighter, with more than several kills 'under his belt', so to speak. Now imagine that this certainly far from good fellow perishes while defending his companions from an evil foe. Would his death be judged 'Heroic', for his selfless actions, or 'Just', for his prior murders? Perhaps neither, as his actions cancel each other out? The answer would naturally be quite complicated, and heavily dependant on both the circumstances, and the enigmatic machinations of the deciding clock."**

Gesturing with his gloved hands for emphasis, the Doctor continued his lecture, **"Regardless, the ultimate ruling of the clock would be absolute..."** Trailing off into silence for a moment, the Doctor then added, in a tone that held mixed contemplation and amusement, **"Unless, that is, someone were to interfere with the clock... Speaking of that someone, you no doubt thought it suspicious that my security detail, as well as the 'help', were curiously absent from the halls during her... visit. Self-evidently, this was because I had no intentions of stopping her from completing her goals. Indeed, one could even say that, ultimately, our goals are much the same. She is manipulating her amusing human pawns to initiate the scratch, and, in a way, so am I...** "

XXXXX

Elsewhere, upon a Land of Frost and Frogs, within a soggy clearing, a lone girl sat on her knees, crying softly. Around her were scattered six bodies, most quite thoroughly murdered.

Although, that didn't remain the case for very long. Unbeknownst to her, two bodies softly lit up with a gentle glow. One cold and black, the other vibrant and purple. The small lights grew in intensity, soon engulfing the entire clearing.

Noticing that something was wrong, Jade shakily lowered her hands from her face and wiped her eyes with a dirty black sleeve. Sliding her glasses back down to her eyes, she stared in a mixture of relief and guilt at the lights.

As the lights grew ever brighter, and she raised an arm to shield her eyes, two feelings suddenly rolled over her. The first, was... oddly familiar, in a way. It felt, ...lonely, empty, and cold. Like the depths of space. For whatever reason, it brought a sliver of comfort to her.

The other, was quite alien and unwelcome. She suddenly found herself clenching her hands in fists, agitated mildly at everyone and everything, herself included. She was simultaneously uncomfortably hot and uncomfortably cold. She felt exhausted and fed up with everything, like she was at the end of her rope, like she was a firecracker being burnt at both ends.

As suddenly as the corona of feelings came, it had vanished, leaving her both glad and resentful of it's absence. Simultaneously, the lights built to a crescendo, and suddenly winked out of existence...

After several tense moments of quiet silence, Jade slowly lowered her arm from her face, squinting into the clearing ahead. For a moment, all was unchanged and still, but suddenly, Chester's black-robed body shifted and moved, before beginning to slowly stagger into a sitting position. Behind him, at the edge of the treeline, Evan's gas-masked body twitched, and with a deep grumble, he too began to move again.

Still kneeling on the damp and muddy ground, Jade stared, frozen in shock and disbelief for a few moments. Finally, the transpiring events sunk in, and she quickly bounced to her feet, sloshing her way through the wet ground towards the groggy Chester.

Wobbling unsteadily, he raised a hand to his helmeted head, and groaned quietly. Likely hearing her approach, he slowly shifted to face her, and began muttering some form of greeting or question, when she swept into him at full speed, lifting him to his feet and pulling him into a suffocatingly crushing hug.

He immediately froze and seemed to turn into an awkward statue in her arms. Despite herself she smiled briefly, before beginning to bombard him with questions and apologies and... well, she wasn't quite sure what she was even saying anymore. _Recent events_ , had brought her to wit's end.

"you'realive!" She exclaimed, before immediately continuing her tirade, "howareyoudoing? areyoualright? imsosorry,it'sallmyfault. ohgosh,imsososorry..."

Before Chester could even react, she paused for a few moments, before regaining her composure. She had to be strong. No-one should have to deal with her problems, save herself.

Letting him go, she stepped back, and biting back her remaining emotional distress, she tried to speak as calmly as possible, "im so glad you're okay! ...i thought..."

Removing and captchaloguing his helmet, taking several heaving breaths and standing rather unsteadily, Chester awkwardly stammered, "Well... I... Err... What happened?"

For a moment, her mask of collected excitement fell, and Chester seemed to regain some memory of the... incident. His hands shook slightly, as he took a few steps to the edge of the treeline, slowly bypassing the glassy trench he himself had dug, and sat on a log quietly.

She joined him.

After a few moments of tense silence, he muttered, "...Holy shit."

Jade didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded. She hoped he'd be willing to talk about it. Dying had to have left deep scars on the mind.

"...I...I died. ...Again." He continued after a few moments, speaking with the emotionless delivery of a robot.

"are you... okay?" she asked, "do you want to talk about it?"

He looked at the ground quietly for a moment, then uncaptchalogued his helmet, putting it back on. "...No." He finally managed, "I... I'm alright now. But thanks."

She frowned at the ground, but said nothing. Pushing him would only cause more problems at the moment. Perhaps he needed time to cope. Perhaps they all did.

A sudden noise caused both of them to jump, recent events prompting both of them to uncaptchalog their guns immediately, swinging them wildly from side-to-side. Seeing the tall, grey-coated boy leaning against a nearby tree, they both relaxed.

"Did either of you see where that winged bastard went?" Evan demanded, eyeing their surroundings warily, chainsword held cautiously at his side. Walking over, and helping himself to a seat beside Chester, he slapped the other boy on the back, quietly commenting, "Nice to see you survived, are you alright?"

Chester awkwardly brushed him off with quiet mutterings, but it seemed that Evan wasn't having any of it.

"You took a pretty nasty hit back there, how are you walking around, are you sure you're okay, let me see" Evan demanded, roughly poking and prodding Chester, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him around.

"he _did_... well... die." Jade interrupted, barely able to even speak of that...

Evan simply gave her a look that, even through an impermeable gasmask, was unmistakably one of ' _what the hell are you talking about, how is that even possible?_ '

"well... you know, when a gog-tier... dies," she explained, "they come back unless it's a heroic or a just death... i guess neither of your... deaths must have been very heroic or deserved"

Evan contemplatively muttered, "well, i'm certainly far from a hero, by any stretch, and... wait, you said gog-tiers have, like, bonus lives?"

"well, ...i guess if it's neither heroic or just, whatever those terms are defined as, i guess so" she replied.

Both Evan and Chester considered her words thoughtfully. After a brief pause, Evan muttered, "...i...take back what i said, gog-tier powers are pretty great after all"

Chester nodded his agreement, the shaking in his hands now mostly under control.

Reluctantly turning her gaze to the other bodies that littered the field, or more specifically, to Dave, the real one (not to say the other daves were any less real, of course!) Jade shakily asked, still trying to maintain whatever fragile grip on her emotions that she had, "um... we can bring dave back, right? i mean, there have to be ways we can do it right?"

Evan confidently nodded, "of course, i'll have you know that i've brought three people back to life, myself included."

In that moment, Jade felt a burden lift from her soul, "thank goodness," she breathed, adding "so how, i mean, you don't have to, you know... right?"

Behind his featureless mask, Evan frowned, "i have no idea what you're babbling about," he grunted, turning his gaze to her not too distant tower, and the portals in the sky somewhere above, "i figure i'll just grab him and lug him to his quest slab, heck, i've even been there before"

Chester quietly commented, "I think that sounds like a decent enough plan... Oddly enough. On this end we... have all the frogs we need. I guess your assistance is... no longer required."

Nodding, Evan sat quietly for a few more moments on the tree.

Suddenly slapping Chester on the back roughly, he stood and said "Well, if that's it, i guess i'll be off, take care of yourself, gog knows i won't be around to"

Still sitting, Chester flinched at the slap, and sincerely replied, "You aswell. I know you're about as hard to put down as a particularly irate grizzly bear. But still. Watch yourself. And good luck."

Evan nodded wordlessly, and walked towards the original Dave's body. Despite wanting to go to her room, lower all the blinds, and crawl into a ball and cry, Jade forced herself to watch, outwardly betraying no hints of emotion beyond a glacial calmness. As Evan picked up Dave's bloodied form, her breathing caught slightly, but she kept her appearance up.

When the grey-coated boy glanced upwards, she called out, "hey!"

Evan tilted his head over to her, curious.

"you bring him back, understood?" She demanded,

Evan stood, unmoving, before nodding.

With that, he took off in the air, Dave slung over his shoulder.

Jade and Chester watched his flight until he vanished in the swirling clouds above. They continued to sit there, for a while longer, still silently staring into the charcoal grey sky.

Eventually, Jade stood. Looking out at the remaining three Daves, she took a few deep breaths and said in a shaky and trembling voice, "we... we should... bury them, you know... it feels wrong to leave them out here like this."

Hurriedly, but without any of the joy she used to have, she added, "...i mean, you don't need to do anything, just head up to the house or something... i... i've got this under control."

Still sitting, Chester was silent for a few moments, before standing and shaking his head. "Honestly." he wearily began, "I just want to do something productive. Besides. What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't help. I didn't really know this Dave fellow. But he seemed like a good person."

Jade looked at him for a few drawn-out seconds, before saying, "...thank you." Gesturing through the forest's edge, and up the steep hill to where the tower sat, she added, "i think we have shovels in the back. come on."

With her once again leading the way, Chester followed.

Neither of them were especially looking forward to what would come next.

XXXXX

Later, after a morbidly silent march to the house, an equally tense walk back down, and much unpleasant digging in the now softened and mushy ground, a few quiet and awkward final moments ensued when the two of them stared silently at the filled graves.

Chester thought that, despite whatever had happened, they had done an adequate job at digging the holes. Handling the bodies had been, without question, the most traumatic experience of his life, but damned if he was going to let someone else go through that kind of stuff alone.

...Wait. Why did he care? Normally, his opinion of 'other people' (Evan and Chris sortof notwithstanding, of course), was that they were idiotic sheep with no ability to think for themselves, or problem-solve in any way. They led dull, uninteresting lives, fuelled only by continuous consumption of mindless entertainment, worked until they were too old, and expired quietly, not noticed by society at large. So, that begged the question, this girl was neither Evan, nor Chris. Why on earth was he further damaging his mind helping her?

...

He didn't have a clear answer to that.

Jade was still staring at the graves, placed side-by-side, with wooden planks driven into the ground in place of headstones, each adorned with some manner of trinket that was no-doubt quite sentimental to Jade.

She made to say something, but hesitated. After a few moments, she put her dark spectagoggles back on, hurriedly muttered, "i...i need to be excused, let's head back to the tower", and quickly ran off into the trees, evidently heading home.

Chester watched her depart, standing quite still.

Left alone, he cast a melancholy gaze back at the three graves. With a shiver, he followed Jade's tracks.

XXXXX

Some time later, within a white tower, upon a Land of Frost and Frogs,

Chester sat in the sitting room, a roaring fire on his right, several creepy mannequins on his left. He was nestled between two other strange mannequins, both dressed like big game hunters. The sitting room was quite unsettling, but the roaring fire was quite warm and comforting, and the couch was very soft.

Jade had waited for him in the foyer, at the very least. She then quietly apologized for leaving him, and told him to muck around for a bit, and that she had some business to take care of...

With that, she once again hurriedly rushed into the transporter pad, and vanished out of sight in a flash.

That was about twenty minutes ago.

Chester was growing ever-so-slightly stir crazy, and he felt like if she didn't wrap up her business soon, he'd start talking to her dead grandpa out of sheer madness. After all, his own grandpappy talked to himself all the time, it wasn't _that_ weird.

He had brought out his laptop, intending to talk to Chris, or one of those troll aliens, but he just couldn't bring himself to do anything. The events of the fight kept flashing before his eyes, and after several moments of having an empty pesterchum text box sitting in-front of him, he had recaptchalogued the device in a flash of irritation.

Impatiently, he began tapping his boot on the ground, his gaze wandering over the various portraits that adorned the walls of the dim and smoky room. Most featured Jade's grandpa, clad in a big game hunter's hat, posing triumphantly over the body of some slain beast or something.

Just as he was about to start pacing the room or something along those lines, the transporter pad flared again, and when the light cleared, Jade stood upon the metal pad. She had cleaned herself up, Chester noted. Much of the dried mud that clung to her shoes and jacket had been seemingly washed off.

Suddenly glancing down, he'd noticed that he himself was still quite dirty and dusty. He couldn't even remember the last time he had brushed his teeth or had a bath. That, had immediately inspired a semi-disgusted reaction, before he calmed down a bit. He'd make time for hygiene a bit later, there was more important stuff to attend to at the moment... and for much of the foreseeable future.

Turning his attention back to Jade, who had walked into the small circle of couches, and sat opposite him, he felt like he needed to say something. She didn't quite seem... 'alright', if that was really applicable in the moment.

He just wasn't sure _how_ he was actually going to speak to her. Talking with people was hard. Way too hard.

Fortunately, she initiated dialogue, "...i'm sorry for running off like that, and leaving you to your own devices." she quietly muttered, her voice sounding somehow _hollow_ , empty.

Chester shook his head, not really understanding the reason for her apology, "It's perfectly alright." he replied, before glancing upwards at the room's ceiling, and asking, "What are we to do now though? Do we continue with the frog-breeding?"

She slowly nodded her head, "i think that's the most productive thing we can do right now," she sighed, before turning serious and asking, "your friend, do you think he can... really bring dave back?"

"Yes. Without doubt." Chester reassured, "Evan is many. Many. Things. But incompetent is not one of them. Besides. He promised you something. I think he'd die trying to complete something he gave his word on."

For the first time in a long while, Jade gave a weak smile,

"thank you," she muttered quietly, some vestige of warmth returning to her voice.

Glancing over her shoulder at the teleporter, she sighed, "come on then, i guess we'd better do this sooner rather than later."

Nodding his agreement, Chester stood and followed her to the silver, metal disk.

Two flashes lit up the sitting room, and they were both gone.

XXXXX

Later, the two found themselves on the windswept and marginally less cold roof.

Chester had collected all of Jade's frogs, mostly for efficiency in retrieval, and was tinkering with the odd device that was supposed to somehow retrieve the genetic goop of the collected frogs, from the past, at a great distance.

...Yeah, he had no idea how to work it, and unsurprisingly, his super-brain was proving uncooperative as usual. At this point, he was planning to tinker with it's tiny buttons until something happened or he learned how to use it.

Whichever came first.

His annoyed fussing was brought to an end by Jade's shocked exclamation, coming from another corner of the roof. Alarmed, he immediately tried to do something that was a bizarre cross between leaping to his feet and turning around, uncaptchaloging the Undertaker in the process. His efforts succeeded in getting his legs tangled, and causing him to fall over backwards, hitting himself in the face with the ghost-weapon's barrel.

Upside down, he reclined his head to see Jade standing on the other end of the flat roof, spectagoggles lowered over her eyes. No immediate threats were visible and she didn't seem especially alarmed so he let out a deep sight of relief, and recaptchalogued his weapon.

Awkwardly maneuverings himself into an upright position, he called over, "Are you alright? What happened? Is something going on?"

Turning her head to him, as if she had only just then remembered his presence, Jade sheepishly raised the goggles, and quietly rasped, in a voice that had once again taken on a hollow tone, "...rose...it's rose's mom and...john's dad... they're both...dead. oh gog, they must be devastated."

Chester frowned, he didn't know any of those people, but it seemed like Jade was feeling bad because of sympathy or something. ...He wasn't exactly sure how to react, but she obviously wasn't feeling very well at the moment. For whatever reason, that made him feel kind of bad too.

"Perhaps you should talk to them." he commented, before suddenly realizing that he'd said that out loud, and immediately freezing on the spot shyly, pretending that he hadn't said anything.

Regrettably, she heard him. "yeah, i think i should." she mournfully commented, glumly adding "they're... not the only ones who have lost people, as crazy as that sounds"

Lowering her spectagoggles, she presumably tried to contact her two friends...


	39. Act II: Chapter 13 (Sort of part 1)

_**A/N: Hello all, I'm finally back after a long wait period. My sincerest apologies for how long this took. Uni is right around the corner, and I have so much stuff to do that it's absurd. I definitely don't have as much time to write as I would like. Anyway, this will be the last update for a while, as I am soon to 'ship off', followed by settling in, followed by what will likely be frenzied studying. I will without question be working on this story, but likely in brief snippets. Hang in there, this will never die... unless I somehow do.**_

 _ **Anyway, this chapter would have been longer (It's already absurdly long), but I couldn't finish it realistically before I left, which would have added more weeks to the wait time, so I wrote just up to the part before the really cool battle, and will have the rest up eventually as a continuation of this.**_

 _ **I would like to thank the unnamed guest who reviewed, as well as all of you other wonderful people who dropped me a message. Thank you all so much, you support means so much to me.**_

 _ **Anyway, I own nothing save the OC's and the majjyk camper, thank you for reading, please review some more, and I sincerely hope you all enjoy.**_

Upon a land of Heat and Clockwork, within a sprawling tangle of machinery and gears, two small figures sat, staring out into a sea of churning molten rock.

Rose Lalonde sat cross-legged, in the middle of a pile of various books, curios, and her laptop. Some few feet away, Chris sat, once more entertaining himself with his own technological device.

Once more staring at the strange white ball in her grasp, Rose tried to bend the object to her will. The confounded sphere was clearly some device to divine future events and obtain guidance, with precisely accurate focus. ...Unfortunately, it was far from co-operative, the advice it doled out was random at best, and it didn't appear to have any rhyme or reason to the nature of how it operated. Once, at her house, she had managed to somehow briefly see _through_ the ball, to find a thin blue strip of paper, much like the normal fortune-telling 8balls. It's message, was as cryptic as it was meaningless.

 _Listen to the Muse_

In all the seventy seven circles of the noble council of horrorterrors, what did that even mean? She had spent a good portion of their travels digesting that tidbit of information, trying to discover whatever meaning it held.

Still, any answer that the statement held eluded her. ...Was it perhaps literal, meaning muse as in the inspirational sense, that she should follow her... inspiration? ...That didn't sound right at all. Maybe it instead meant muse in a more... metaphorical sense, perhaps a friend of hers who inspired her in some way, who had useful advice that she needed to hear?

That sounded rather improbable aswell. After much pondering, she decided to leave the perplexing conundrum be for the time being. It likely held little real meaning or usefulness...

The ball had offered no elaboration, and indeed, had refused to reveal any more information to her. It seemed that, whatever trick she had accidentally used to peer inside of it, had been a one-off occurrence. No matter what dark majjyks she used on the ball, it remained opaque and unresponsive.

With no other ways to move forward in sight, she exasperatedly tried once again to simply speak to it.

Quietly, and with extreme precision in her tone and flawless pronunciation, she demanded, "What. Did. Your. Previous. Statement. Mean?"

With no great expectations, she stared at the featureless white sphere.

A moment passed.

Then, another.

The ball showed no change whatsoever.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Rose simply set the ball aside. If it refused to 'play ball', so to speak, then she would simply deal with it at a later date. Her time was valuable enough as it was.

Destroying Jack still remained her primary goal, and, if she was being honest with herself, she still had no idea how to go about that. All of her spelunking and obsessive investigations had only revealed the power source of the entities known as First Guardians. How to go about _destroying_ said power source, was ever-so-conveniently absent from all the cave scriptures. Besides, how _would_ one go about destroying or disabling an enormous mega-sun with twice the mass of their current universe?

Not very easily, it seemed.

Her ally in the noble circles of the horrorterrors was also being annoyingly absent. Rose didn't quite know how one would go about contacting an incomprehensible nightmare-creature that dwelt outside time and space, so it seemed that her contact would have to initiate any conversations about their promised 'guidance' and 'training'. So far, the being that had first contacted her had made no further moves to do so.

With no guidance forthcoming, she had decided to try and progress as normal, for a change, and come to Dave's planet, in search of anything that could shed light on her self-appointed quest.

Certainly she still had things to do upon her home planet, such as 'playing the rain', or whatever inane name her planetary quest had. It was likely meant to further her growth as a person or something in that vein, but she personally felt that such things were unneeded, and an exceptional waste of time. After all, she was already a highly intelligent, competent and mature person, what could a pointless and childish quest have to offer?

Glancing contemplatively downwards, through rotating gears and clinking pistons, a thought struck her... She hadn't yet met with her denizen.

While she found the thought that an overgrown game construct such as her denizen could possibly offer any manner of illumination on her current lack of direction, she grudgingly supposed that contacting him might prove to be useful.

Just as she was about to stand, and usher Chris to follow her back through the portal, her laptop buzzed with the ever-so-bothersome pesterchum notification sound. Turning her attention to her laptop which lay before her on the metal grating, she responded to her most curious contact...

-_ [ ] began pestering **tentacleTherapist** **[TT]** -

 **Greetings madame Lalonde.**

TT: Greetings.

TT: ...It appears that you have me at somewhat of a disadvantage.

TT: You seem to know me, but I do not do not believe we are acquainted.

 **That would be because we are not.**

TT: ...Might I inquire as-to your name then, Mr...

 **You certainly may, but I somehow doubt that you would receive it.**

 **Also, it is not Mr, but rather Dr.**

TT: Alright then, Dr...

TT: Would I be correct in presuming that you have contacted me for reasons other than mysteriously hinting at your name and professional occupation, and otherwise being rather odd, if well mannered.

 **You most certainly would be correct.**

 **Suffice it to say, that I happen to have a vested interest in the success of your rather spectacularly failing session.**

TT: So you are here to give me advice on how to proceed.

 **Quite so.**

 **Though it has been most amusing watching you and yours flounder about so, it is well past time for you all to get on with things.**

TT: Alright, what do you suggest I do then?

 **Well, that very much depends, Ms. Lalonde, what do** ** _you_** **think you should do?**

TT: I am very much aware that we will need to destroy the green sun to eliminate nearly all of Jack's powers, but as of yet I cannot find anything that would explain how such an event would be possible.

 **Is that all that you have discovered?**

TT: I have also read some vague scrawlings pertaining to something called a 'scratch', and that it would be initiated upon the time player's planet.

TT: That wouldn't happen to have any importance, would it?

 **Well, Ms. Lalonde, it might just have a role to play.**

 **Although, I have several guests coming to spend time in my parlor rather soon, so I would continue this discussion at a later date. For now though, do be a dear and make your way to the Beat Mesa, a particular landscape feature reminiscent of a large turntable upon your companion's planet.**

 **I will instruct you further then.**

TT: Just for clarification, 'the Beat Mesa', as you call it, is it a rock formation or some manner of machinery?

 **Quite so. It is an especially large metal turntable, shaped vaguely in the likeness of a gear, and adrift above an ocean of magma.**

 **With that, I bid you pleasant travels.**

 **Madam Lalonde.**

 **-** _ [ ]ceased pestering **tentacleTherapist [TT]-**

Rose stared in silent contemplation at her now blank computer screen. Whoever that was, had circumvented the usual pesterchum programming that prevented communications between users who were not 'friends'. Judging by the... _individual's_ demeanour and colourful turn of phrase, it was unlikely that he was simply a particularly bored troll or some manner of hacker. Whomever he was, he also seemed to have very privileged information, especially in regards to her activities.

Being creeped by a stranger was quite unsettling and all, but she was not quite perturbed. This stranger, after all, seemed to know far more about the game's workings than he let on. Such knowledge, would be very, very useful in her quest.

Besides, it wasn't as if she didn't ally with literal nightmare-creatures from beyond time and space to further her goals. What was a harmless stranger on top of that?

At least this one had proper manners.

Idly shifting her weight and glancing at the horizon, where the lava simply stretched outwards in a great expanse until the sky met the ground, Rose contemplated his instructions. Finding this 'Beat Mesa', and travelling to it seemed simple enough. She was far from naive enough to think that he held no ulterior motives, but really, didn't everyone?

Besides, if the possibility of defeating Jack was on the metaphorical table, then she owed it to everyone to take this chance, consequences be damned.

Sharply rising to her feet, black and purple robes swishing magnificently around her like a murder of crows, she called over to Chris, who was bundled up in his brown cloak and knightly helmet, mesmerized by his laptop and lost to the world.

"Chris," she gently decided, "We're quite finished here, so if you wouldn't mind, I have another place that I would like to visit."

The boy quickly looked up from his computer, excited at the prospect of actually doing something. "wow, arewegoing somewhereinterestingnow?" he energetically asked,

Rose nodded, "To some extent, yes. I doubt we will do much of anything engaging upon our arrival, but the view should be quite picturesque, at the very least."

Chris deflated a bit at that, but still nodded. Captchaloguing his laptop, and standing up, he asked, "whereare wegoing then?"

Noncommittally shrugging in the general direction of the lake of fire surrounding their platform, Rose explained, "A place known as the Beat Mesa, as I am told. To be honest, I am not entirely certain of it's actual whereabouts."

"youdon't knowwhere itis." Chris stated,

"That is... one way to phrase it." Rose admitted, hastily yet coolly adding, "Although divining it's location should be relatively straightforward. All I need to do is to consult my other crystal ball. The one that actually works."

With that, she glanced back down to her collection of books and other things, and picked up a black, glassy ball. This one, she remarked, was made by her, from the fusion of an 8ball and a curiously helpful yet mysterious item code she received from Dave.

The new black crystal ball didn't give majjyk answers to any questions posed of it, but instead functioned as a sort of looking glass, through which she could observe the entire session at will.

Holding it carefully in the palm of her left hand, she gazed into it's inky, stygian depths, and willed it to show the Land of Heat and Clockwork. The murky darkness within it remained unchanged for a few moments, clinging to the insides of the ball like a cloying fog, before traces of colour formed within the wispy darkness. Soon, the ball showed a crimson sphere, floating in the depths of space.

Rose smiled imperceptibly, willing the ball to zoom into the planet. She was looking for, oh, what was it the mysterious individual had said, a... rather large turntable-shaped article of machinery? That didn't seem too difficult to find.

After a few moments of rotating the planet inside her crystal ball, she found it. Or... something that was probably it. From her orbital view, Dave's planet was a shimmering crimson ball of fire, with tiny latticeworks of metal built over nearly all of the magma that made up the planet's surface. The whole surface seemed to be covered with barely visible forests of steel and machinery. Except for a curious trench, free of all structures, that ran from the North pole to the planet's South pole, splitting it's forests of metal and gears into two distinct halves.

Following said trench to the other side of the planet, had revealed that it continued all the way around the globe. On this side of the planet though, it expanded from a simple straight line, to a massive circular expanse that dominated the middle of the planet.

Inside this circular zone, was a slightly imperfect circle of black metal, shaped vaguely like a record disk, and big enough to be seen from orbit. Beneath the circle itself, nearly imperceptible tangles of metal and gears could be seen.

If that wasn't a 'beat mesa', Rose would sell her soul to the elder gods. Wait... she had already kinda done that. Oh well, for whatever it was worth, they were rather helpful elder gods.

Zooming back into the planet, she willed the ball to show her current location.

With yet more showmanship and elaborate dark smoke, the ball shifted to show her and Chris, both tiny specks, on the same side of the planet as the Mesa, but still very far west of it.

Lowering the ball, and turning her gaze to the orange horizon around her, she thoughtfully mused, 'That means, we need to travel a good distance east... That just leaves discerning which way is east as an issue.'

Fortunately, she had a plan for that aswell.

Captchaloguing her ball, as it's mystic services were no longer required, she uncaptchalogued one of her wands, the air around them immediately growing colder. Despite them standing above a lake of fire, on a planet who's entire surface was mostly covered in magma, the metal platform on which they stood grew significantly darker.

Holding it horizontally in the palm of her hand, she raised her arm, and imposed her will upon the stick. 'Show me east.'

The stick immediately began to spin, unaided by her in any way. Finally, it settled, pointing behind her. Though it was an inanimate object, she could practically feel the wand tugging her eastwards.

With that finished, she turned back to Chris, who had instinctively backed up from the wand's fearsome aura, "Well. The location of our destination is no longer a mystery." She proudly stated,

"Sowecan leavenow?" Chris asked, excited, "that'sgreat!Letsgo now!"

"Yes, Chris." She replied, bemused, "We can go now. At this exact moment, in fact. I trust you can keep up if I fly?"

"CanI?!" Chris almost sounded offended, "I'llhave you knowthatI'mthe bestest flyerever!" he boasted,

Rose smiled softly, "Im sure." she deadpanned,

Chris puffed his chest out and crossed his arms competitively, "Whichway? Justpoint meatit and i'llbethere before you evenleave!"

Gesturing over her shoulder, and uncaptchaloguing her other wand, Rose chuckled, "It is just behind me, a sizable distance over there."

Tilting his helmeted head to follow her pointing wand, Chris stood still for a few moments, before exclaiming, "raceyou!" and scrambling into the air with all the enthusiasm of a small child.

Rose watched him for a few moments, simultaneously shaking her head and smiling in amusement. With the aid of her twin wands, she followed in the small boy's wake, trailing the blackest of majjyks behind her.

XXXXX

The journey to the towering monolith of black metal and gears that was the 'Beat Mesa', took far less time than Rose had expected. Since it was, about half a continent away, she had presumed that the journey would have taken an innumerable amount of hours.

Instead, they had arrived in twenty minutes. Rose wasn't quite sure how that worked. When they flew, certainly they were going rather fast, but clearly nowhere near fast enough to cross a continent in twenty minutes. She wasn't entirely sure what was going on, be it convoluted time shenanigans, or them actually moving faster than they thought, or some other manner of sburb reality warping, but whatever the reason, they had arrived well ahead of schedule and she was not going to complain.

Glancing downwards, to the actual 'mesa' as it were, where Chris had already ever-so-eagerly darted down to explore, Rose simply observed the structure. It was, like her mysterious benefactor had described, a large turntable, shaped like a gear. This description though, did not quite do the monolithic construct justice. The uppermost part of it was flat and smooth, almost resembling vinyl in it's construction. Shaped in resemblance of a record, the upper circle occupied about as much area as a city block.

Below this upper layer, rested a much larger conglomerate of clanking gears and hissing pipes and tree-trunk sized wires, all extending downwards for many stories, and stretching out further than even the upper layer.

Like an inverted triangle, the structure grew thinner and smaller the further down it went, eventually tapering off into a thin tube that extended downwards from it's centre, eventually passing into the lake of bubbling magma that lay beneath, and disappearing from view.

The entire structure had a faint red glow to it, and all the moving parts made it seem like some manner of slumbering beast.

Rose smirked in approval and mild envy. Why couldn't her planet have anything this imposing and grandiose?

With precise control, she bid her wands to lower her to the surface of the disk. Trailing dark shadows and evil whispers, she landed, and immediately set to work. Simultaneously uncaptchaloguing her laptop and recaptchaloguing her wands, she sat down.

As she opened the chat application, it suddenly occurred to her that she did not actually have a way to contact her mysterious benefactor...

Before she could mentally slap herself and begin a mental tirade of beratement for failing to extract a contact address from the individual, her pesterchum beeped. Her eyes narrowed at the screen. Was this really going to be this convenient?

 **-_ [ ] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]-**

 **Greetings once again madam Lalonde.**

TT: So. I trust that your guests have left, and you are ready to impart your dazzling instructions unto me.

TT: Am I wrong?

 **You are rather to the point, it seems. Of course, I already knew that.**

 **Ha Ha Hee Hee Hoo Hoo**

TT: Am I missing some manner of detail here?

 **Certainly, but don't worry. It is not a very important detail.**

TT: Very well then, can we move on to the part where you explain the staggeringly obtuse course of action I need take to succeed?

 **I certainly could.**

 **But I wont.**

 **It's more amusing to make you deduce it yourself.**

TT: Do we really have time for this? A certain teleporting murderer is on the loose, If you haven't forgotten.

 **Oh, I most certainly have not. He was just visiting, in fact.**

 **Or... He will be visiting.**

 **These temporal contrivances are quite difficult to wrap one's head around. If you're not omniscient, that is.**

TT: You're saying that you are omniscient then?

 **I do not know, madam Lalonde, am I?**

TT: You don't seem to be any human or troll player, if only through your intelligence and insufferable smugness.

 **That was not an answer.**

TT: No, it was not.

 **You aren't going to ask me who I am? You're not in the least bit curious?**

 **I already know the answers to both questions, to be perfectly honest, but I would prefer to see your response.**

TT: It is quite rude for me to make such questions of strangers. Most presumptuous.

TT: Besides, I think you're too arrogant to tolerate me having such a nonchalant attitude towards your identity, and you'll simply tell me yourself in due time.

 **I will have you know that I am many things, Omniscient, Powerful, and Exceptionally Charming.**

 **I am not, however, arrogant.**

 **Such traits are unbecoming of excellent hosts.**

TT: Is that what you are then, an excellent host?

 **Among other things, yes.**

TT: ...Very well then, could we talk about what I need to do now?

TT: Not that you aren't an entertaining individual to converse with.

 **I should hope so, I am, after all, Exceptionally Charming.**

TT: Well, perhaps not quite for that specific reason, as such wild claims require an abundance of evidence.

TT: But don't feel bad, two out of three is more than most people would get correctly on a honest self-assessment.

TT: Would you care to take a guess, with your omniscience as-to which I am referring to?

 **Oh very good.**

 **That is a very droll bit of wordplay you have put together.**

 **If I pretend to ignore the fact that you consider my company unpalatable, then I reveal my lack of omniscience. If I instead choose to keep my image as an all-knowing being of exceptional and unmatched intellectual prowess, then I must acknowledge your erroneous opinion about my personality.**

 **It is unfortunate that it is an immutable fact of the universe that I am all three, and you are simply 'grasping at straws', as humans would say.**

TT: So you aren't human then.

 **I gather that you are quite pleased with yourself right now? Thinking that you have manipulated me into letting slip information?**

 **I truly regret shattering your illusion of intellectual triumph, but this entire exchange of words was predetermined long before your universe was breathed into existence at the hands of an especially incompetent group of Alternians.**

 **I have foreseen this exact dialogue millennia before this moment. I certainly have free will. Or, at least to the extent that anyone else has 'free will'. I certainly could have changed the flow of this conversation at any point, but I simply chose not to.**

 **So, I allow you to have your verbal victories. For the sake of inevitability.**

TT: Wow. That was quite a mouthful. And I thought I liked to hear myself talk.

TT: Still, you mentioned that you already know the outcome of this conversation? That you've seen it all before so many times?

TT: If that is the case, why are you going through with it now? Are you just going through the motions, fulfilling a predetermined series of events because you have to?

 **Once again you seek to assert the erroneous insinuation that I am arrogant. But we both know that is not the case.**

 **Regardless, I do not partake in fulfilling these chains of events out of any compulsion or obligation.**

TT: No?

 **Quite so. It is a pleasure, really.**

 **The company of young ladies is always enjoyable.**

TT: ...That is kinda creepy.

 **It most certainly is not.**

TT: As a young lady, I think I am the foremost authority on the subject, and I decree that yes, it is quite creepy.

 **I am simply being an Excellent and Charming Host. I would offer you some candy to prove it, if I was physically present.**

TT: Yeah, no. That makes it even creepier.

 **Once again, you are quite empirically wrong. The standards of human conduct that you seem so insistent to apply to me are completely incompatible with my distinguished self.**

TT: Really now? How so?

 **Well, I happen to be an immortal and omniscient individual with a cueball for a head. Moreover, I am completely incapable of biological, or any other form, of reproduction.**

 **Furthermore, considering that I predate all civilization and biological life upon Alternia, it would seem rather obvious that any and all ladies are quite young in comparison to myself.**

TT: Really? You have a cueball for a head? How does that even work?

 **I require neither rest nor sustenance, so I would say, rather well.**

 **Still, to put your troubled mind at ease, simply think of me as a kindly human uncle, or some manner of distant handsome and intelligent relative.**

TT: Uh...

TT: Can we just get to the part where you tell me what to do?

 **I suppose so.**

TT: Was that really a supposition, or is this fated to be the moment when you tell me?

 **Was that really a question?**

TT: I see.

TT: I presume that you still intend to make me deduce this by myself?

 **You will anyway. Would you like me to reply with something specific?**

TT: I suppose not.

TT: So, both you and the cave scribbles on the Land of Light and Rain mentioned something called the 'scratch'. Would I be wrong in presuming that it has something to do with this... mechanical construct beneath me?

 **You would not be wrong. Continue.**

TT: Very well...

TT: …

TT: Since it's name is the complete extent of any available information on 'the scratch', could I request a hint on how to proceed?

 **Very well. The object beneath you is a 'scratch construct', designed to facilitate the hard reset of failed sessions in the event of a dire emergency.**

TT: I infer from your wording that such constructs are a standard feature in sessions. Are the odds of catastrophic failure so truly so great that such fail-safes are so common?

TT: Moreover, is it always a colossal record made of gears, or is that special for this session?

 **Well, far more sessions fail to bear fruit than otherwise. But the nature of your problem is rather... unique.**

TT: You mean failing spectacularly and accidentally creating an invincible and omnipotent enemy?

 **In a more diplomatic way, yes. My omniscience tells me that your ego is rather fragile.**

TT: ...So, I need to make the device force a 'hard reset' on reality itself. I confess that I don't entirely grasp how that would work.

 **You will not be doing it.**

TT: ...Beg your pardon?

 **You will merely facilitate a series of events that will lead to the scratch. It is not yet time.**

TT: Regardless, what do I have to do?

 **Firstly, you are familiar with the tumor, yes?**

TT: Is that really a question? I thought you knew everything.

 **It is most certainly not a question. It is a fact, followed by a confirmatory question mark. That is there because of politeness. We both know that your answer is yes, but...**

TT: ...Yes but what?

 **Yes but... the fact that you are also going to inquire about what relevance the tumor holds.**

 **That, and what the tumor even is, exactly.**

TT: I am vaguely aware of it. It is some fashion of game construct that is also a bomb. I soon put it out of my mind, a bomb can't exactly defeat Jack.

 **Or can it?**

TT: Can it?

 **It can.**

 **Or, rather. It can destroy the green sun. I do believe that you were looking to accomplish that earlier, yes?**

TT: I most certainly was. But the Green Sun is deep in the twisting depths of the Furthest Ring, how will I find it? How will I get it there? Or is that also a task you would have me delegate to another?

 **No. You will be the one to guide it there.**

 **Moreover, the Tumor is buried deep in the core of the Battlefield. You will not be the one to extract it, but you will deliver it.**

TT: So what is my ultimate plan to be then? Somehow finding and delivering the Tumor into the Green Sun, whilst at the same time ensuring that something happens back here?

 **Quite so. The Scratch will reset reality, erasing the Sovereign Slayer from existence entirely. However, there is a snag. To ensure his... unique abilities prove no issue during the execution of The Scratch...**

TT: We destroy the Green Sun, thus stripping him of his powers. It's making sense now.

TT: However, when you mention 'erasing him from existence', and how the Scratch 'resets reality'... I take it that Jack will not be the only being to be 'erased'.

 **Very perceptive of you.**

 **The Scratch resets the game. This will release an enormous amount of raw temporal energy. Naturally, being in the device's presence during the scratch, or anywhere in the session, is not advised.**

TT: So if the game is reset, we will all simply wake up in our homes the day we started the game? Hopefully not to repeat our mistakes?

 **Not quite.**

 **It resets the session, you see. Completely. Your universe, your home-world, will all be reset to the dawn of bacterial life. You and your friends will likely, or should I say, inevitably, will come into existence, but you will all be impossibly different individuals. Your reset selves will hold no memories of this failed session. For all intents and purposes, you and your friends will die, only to be replaced by vaguely similar lookalikes.**

TT: ...I assume there is a way to cheat the system?

 **Of course. There are many ways to ensure your survival.**

TT: You aren't going to tell me any of them, are you?

 **Of course not. Where would be the challenge in that?**

TT: Very well then, I think that deciphering a way by myself should be within the realm of possibility.

TT: But, how would I initiate the Scratch in the first place?

 **The process to release the construct's temporal energies is an arduous one. It involves the destruction of the construct in a very specific manner.**

TT: What manner would that be?

 **You must scratch the entire length of the surface. Or, your appointed agent will.**

TT: ...Scratch it? This is a very literal process.

 **Oh, very much so. I find it rather amusing, don't you?**

 **Don't answer that. We both already know you do.**

 **Furthermore, the scratch must be caused with your needlekind strife-specibus, by a specific manner of needle. The surface of the Beat Mesa is nearly immune to conventional attempts to mar it's surface.**

TT: I have several kinds of majyyk needles. Might I inquire as to which specific manner of needle?

 **Your appointed agent must use one of the Witch of Space's denizen's quills. I advise that you make contact with the Witch to that end, she will know what you mean.**

TT: A denizen's quill? Why? Does it have even more majjyk properties?

 **In a way, yes. Echidna's quills are very powerful.**

TT: Alright then. So I need to get in contact with Jade, arrange the collection of a majjyk quill she has, pass it and my specibus onto some other individual.

TT: Then, I scamper off to arrange the collection of 'The Tumor' from Skaia.

TT: Then, I try to find a way to get it through the unchartable depths of the furthest ring and deliver it to the Green Sun.

TT: Then, I need to figure out a way to save us all from the Scratch.

TT: Am I missing anything?

 **You seem to have everything understood.**

 **I have greatly enjoyed this discussion, madam Lalonde.**

 **I should spend more time in the delightful company of young ladies.**

TT: Err...

TT: That's still very creepy.

TT: Thank you for your guidance though.

 **-_ [ ]ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]-**

Exiting from the conversation, Rose contemplated the new information that had been divulged to her, and her future plans. In regards to the 'Tumor', she was hoping to have John handle it's recovery, as he was already on the battlefield, doing whatever he was currently doing.

Then... perhaps she would tell him to bring the tumour to her, on the Land of Heat and Clockwork when he was done. At that point, she would take it off his hands, whilst also giving him her strife-specibus, so he could properly wield the needle required to initiate the scratch.

Said needle... would need to somehow be retrieved from Jade, well on the other end of the solar system. Then, it would need to come all the way back to LoHaC... Noticing the unwelcome inefficiency in her otherwise simple plan, she frowned slightly.

There really didn't seem any other way to get 'Echidna's quill' from Jade, besides traipsing all across the solar system twice. Regrettably, it was the only option. The only question, was who would be the unlucky carrier pidgeon that would deliver it.

She ruled herself out. She was clearly needed to supervise events.

Jade had other problems to deal with, what with her self-appointed goal of frog-breeding.

John would have his hands full with the tumor...

Dave was off doing gog only knew what...

Then, inspiration struck her.

Turning slowly, she faced Chris, who sat a small distance away, playing happily on his laptop again.

"Chris?" She called over,

He immediately folded his laptop, looking up at her in a manner remenicent of a lost puppy of some manner.

"yes? Arewe donehereyet? Youpromised excitementandfun stuff, butyou'rejust ignoring meagain" Chris protested,

Rose shook her head theatrically, "You're right, I have been quite neglectful to you, and I am sorry for that. I have just been very busy with very important stuff." Her voice turning warm with fake excitement, she continued, "But now the really fun and cool stuff begins. I actually have a super important mission for you, Chris... if you are up for it, that is."

"Iam soup forit!" Chris declared, captchaloguing his laptop and standing up eagerly.

Rose waved her arms at him placatingly, "Calm down, please. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I am not too certain what I need you to do yet. I just need a little more time, and then you can go be a heroic courier."

Now actually engaged, he walked closer and lowered himself to stare at her screen.

"what'sgoing on?" he asked,

Rose didn't see any reason not to tell him. If she was going to be a dark witch or something, she surely needed apprentices, right? Chris could be her... dark knight or something.

Taking a breath, she offered him a condensed version, "Well, I am sure that you know about Jack Noir, correct?"

He nodded enthusiastically, "yeah, theevil chessguy!"

"Well, due to... prototyping mistakes on our part, Jack was made impossibly powerful. We cannot win against him." Gesturing to the Beat Mesa around her, she explained, "But, do not despair. Us being here, is all a part of my plan to defeat Jack and save the day."

"ithought you saidhe wasundefeatable" Chris stated,

Frowning, she tersely replied, "Yes, well... He is invulnerable to conventional strategems, yes. But I have other plans. Ones that involve breaking the game to stand triumphant." Her voice mellowing out a little bit, she added, "Do you understand?"

Chris's knightly helmet nodded slowly. "Ithink... Igetit... It's likein LightSouls, whenIfought Magnus thefatherof theLight. Hewastoo hard... soIshot himwith arrowsfrom outsidehis bossarena. Idont thinkthatwas supposed tohappen, butthedevelopers had itcoming formaking suchatough boss"

"That is an... accurate enough analogy." Rose said, "Like... you, I have a quite devious plan to defeat Jack."

Gesturing outwards into space, she explained, "Out there, somewhere, lies the Green Sun. A giant superstar with twice the mass of our universe. Jack accidentally gained the powers of a First Guardian, a race of supremely powerful beings who gain their power from said sun. I plan to destroy it." she said with cold finality.

"SothenJack willlose hispowers?" Chris asked,

She shook her head. "Not quite. It will take more than that to be rid of the Sovereign Slayer. Moreover..." She lowered her tone at that. No-one was eavesdropping, but this wasn't exactly something she wanted her friends to know. Ignorance was bliss. "Jack has gained some... other powers from the Black King's stolen ring... He has unleashed some manner of uncontrollable attack known as the 'Red Miles'."

Warily stealing a glance at the sky, half-expecting to see ominous crimson tendrils descending from the sky, she continued, "It can best be described as a cancer on reality itself... I will not delve into specifics, but suffice it to say that this session is already dead. Eventually reality will unravel at the seams."

Chris looked positively terrified at that point, but she shushed him with a gesture,

"I have a plan to deal with that too, don't worry. You see, this structure we're sitting on right now, is designed to reset a session in the event of disasters... like this one."

He slowly nodded, following her explanations as best he could.

"But don't concern yourself with that," She continued, "I just have a simple retrieval task for you. Not at this exact moment, of course, but soon enough. I just need to talk to a friend quickly, and you can be on your way."

Chris's helmet bobbed in confirmation for a moment. "So...youwant meto getsomething for you?" he inquired.

Returning her gaze to the laptop sitting before her, Rose absentmindedly nodded, "Essentially, but don't concern yourself with it now, I will give you detailed instructions in a moment."

Ending on a note of finality, she resumed her attentions on the screen. Now she needed to get in contact with Jade. However, as she made to click on her friend's chumhandle, a message popped up on her screen...

This new messenger seemed just as mysterious as the Cueball-headed gentleman she had talked to moments before. Perhaps it was even the same person, though, she somewhat doubted that.

Still, curiosity piqued, she decided that Jade could wait for a moment. Besides, the Red Miles would take a long time to devastate the universe...

 **\- ERroR0124nOtFoUnD[ $] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]-**

%&: _Greetings Rose._

TT:I'm not even going to ask at this point how you know my name.

TT: Greetings.

TT: By any chance, you wouldn't happen to be the... individual that I just spoke to, would you?

!#: _I would not be._

$(: _However, that is why I am here. You must not trust him, Rose._

^ : _That being brings naught but suffering and chaos wherever his influence takes root._

TT: ...I suppose that you're about to say that I should place my trust in you instead.

#%: _Things would be so much easier if you insufferably stubborn humans just listened to me in the first place,_

! : _But I long ago abandoned any delusions of things being easy._

^&: _So, no. I will not tell you to listen to me instead._

TT: Very well then. I gather you are contacting me for some reason, so please, do go on.

TT: What will you tell me then?

#*: _Your lack of respect for beings that are trying to help you is most insufferable._

! : _But, I must simply tell you to re-evaluate your allies. Are you certain that all are deserving of your trust?_

!*: _Not all is as it seems, and all have their own motives._

TT: Including you?

$%: _If I could cuff you upside your arrogant head through this monitor..._

#: _Yes. I have dark and mysterious plans._

%#: _Perhaps alone of the beings you consort with, my plans end with you and your companions still alive._

TT: You speak of the horror-terrors, correct?

TT: I suppose that you too intend to embark upon a self-righteous tirade about their evils.

TT: In case you are not aware, they are the only entities that have thus far bothered to help me in trying to keep this session in one piece.

TT: If you were so concerned about me and my interactions with 'evil and manipulative beings', where were you when Jack was rampaging across the battlefield?

TT: Your sage advice would have been greatly welcome then.

#^: _...It seems I was wrong._

&$: _I was under the impression that the Dunwich boy and his violent friend were the most arrogant members of your species. I now stand corrected._

*#: _Your kind has never failed to find new ways to disappoint and annoy me._

TT: Is that so?

TT: If you're trying to manipulate me, a little courtesy would go a long way.

^ : _That is not my intention._

*: _I would be content to leave you to your own devices, however, you seem determined to disrupt my plans._

&^: _That will not do. I am on your side in this. Or, rather, you are all on my side. You simply don't know it yet._

TT: Wow. What a compelling argument.

 **-_ [ ]- Has Joined the Chat**

 **I would agree.**

 **By the way, greetings once again madam Lalonde.**

TT: Hello again. Is there something else you need to impart to me?

TT: Or are you just here because you missed my charming company?

 **Although conversing with you is always a pleasure, not exactly.**

 **Suffice it to say, that I inevitably would have contacted you again anyway, both in order to drive off this... Meddling harpy, and to deliver you further instruction, seeing as you still have not unveiled the secrets of that orb.**

^: _You are one to talk, puppet._

&$: _I see now. Your influence extends further than I initially presumed. Between you and the horrorterrors, ms. Lalonde may already be a lost cause._

 **I am simply trying to push madam Lalonde to initiate the Scratch, and to destroy the Green Sun.**

 **If I am not mistaken, and I never am, that is your objective as well. Why are you so determined to thwart me?**

#$: _You know well enough why._

TT: Excuse me. I'm still right here. You can stop talking about me behind my back now.

 **My apologies.**

*: _I would like to have taken the effort to warn you about this individual, Rose. But you will not listen regardless._

^&: _Simply put, he has twisting schemes of his own, and you are a fool if you believe that he is upon your side._

 **For the record, I have never taken any efforts to deceive you, Rose. Nor do I intend to.**

TT: You said you wanted to see the Green Sun destroyed, what are your goals in this?

 **I am a humble pawn of my master, nothing more. I am to arrange his entrance into this universe, through the series of events that will lead to Jack's defeat.**

 **His arrival is merely a formality, to be candid. For all intents and purposes, he is already here.**

TT: A master? Who or what is he? Will he help us fight Jack?

 **My master is known by many titles. One that you humans would be able to pronounce is 'Lord English'.**

TT: What do you mean by 'he's coming here'? How do you plan to 'arrange his entrance' exactly?

 **When you destroy the Green Sun, when the Scratch is activated, I can die. Only then, may my master enter this session.**

TT: So... Why is he coming here? Is he, like you, on our side?

 **No. My master is a very evil being.**

TT: ...This doesn't sound like an outcome I wish to support. Unleashing an evil being onto the universe, one more powerful than you, despite your self-proclaimed 'omnipotence'.

$&: _Nor should you wish to support it. Lord English will be the undoing of all existence if he is allowed to enter._

^ : _You must oppose him at all turns._

 **Do not presume to lecture her that the alternative is any better. Lord English is a known quantity in paradox space. Much like the horrorterrors, he too plays a role in maintaining existence.**

 **Jack is a loose cannon. The manifestation of a cancer that the trolls, in all their skill at universe-breeding, managed to give your universe. If left untreated, Jack will tear apart your universe and every incarnation of it at the seams.**

 **Then, he will move upon other universes.**

 **Which outcome is least horrible, madam Lalonde?**

 **I do believe we both know the answer to that.**

TT: I don't really have a choice, do I?

 **As I said, we all have a choice. That is the beauty of reality. However, there really is only one right choice, and we both know which you will inevitably choose.**

TT: ...Very well. I continue as planned then.

TT: But tell me, what does your omnipotence say about our odds of success? Do we win?

TT: Do I find a way to save us from the Scratch?

 **Though I enjoy this conversation, I do not enjoy having my omnipotence reduced to a mere fortune-telling gimmick. I am under no obligation to walk you through every step of your mission, Rose.**

 **Besides, I do so dislike spoilers. Rather ironic, don't you think, with my omniscience and all?**

 **Still, there is something that can give you meaningless advice about the future to your heart's content.**

 **Do you still have the white ball?**

TT: Of course. ...Was that a joke?

 **It most certainly was. Good catch.**

^: _The white ball lies. Just as he does._

 **I resent that accusation. I have never uttered a falsehood to Madam Lalonde. Or to yourself, for that matter. Or to our esteemed guests.**

TT: Guests?

 **You would not understand. Although, I tire of her interruptions. Leave us for a moment** **.**

*: _You will do no su-_ -

 **-eRroR0346nOtFOunD[ $]- Has Left the Chat**

TT: I... Whatever. How do I use the ball. I tried everything I could think of, and it remains an inert chunk of rock.

TT: ...Well, it worked once, but I have no idea how that came to pass.

 **Well, how do you think it works?**

TT: You're going to make me solve this, aren't you?

 **It is inevitable. Get on with it already, we all have places to be.**

 **Well, I don't. This entire conversation is taking place in less than a second for me.**

 **You though, most certainly have places to be.**

TT: Alright then. I theorize that the orb is powered by the willpower of it's user, much like mine own majjyk ball. The problem is, that it has an opaque surface, and I can't see it's answers.

 **Most perplexing. What do you intend to do about it?**

 **Well, I already know. It's simply more amusing this way.**

TT: There was one particular instance where I managed to see through the ball somehow.

TT: Or a part of it became transparent. The question is, how do I make whatever it was happen again?

 **Are you asking me, seer? Because you should be the one telling me.**

TT: No. Just thinking.

TT: I know from... personal experience, that despite not having reached the god-tiers, Dave has some degree of time manipulation abilities already.

TT: Perhaps I too have some manner of dormant abilities as a Seer.

 **Would those help you see through it?**

TT: Maybe.

TT: If I knew, I would already be using it.

TT: Maybe I could just use some form of majjyks to brute-force it to become transparent...

 **Do you believe in magic, Rose?**

TT: Of course. What do you think I've been using to explode temples and fly?

TT: If those majjyk wands are fake, then I don't exactly know how else to explain such blatant wizardry.

 **I have an alternate hypothesis.**

 **You combined a fictional book, and some mundane objects to create said wands. How could such a combination suddenly give a little girl such terrible power?**

TT: So what? You mean to say that I have always had the power within me? That the wands are a placebo?

 **Of course not. Don't be silly. Humans are a decidedly unmagical species.**

 **This is clear evidence, however, of something else at work.**

TT: Really now? Of what, pray tell?

 **You tell me. Whom was it exactly that approached you since the beginning of the session?**

 **Who was it that offered you power and tutelage?**

 **Who was it that groomed and instructed you through the course of your adventure?**

 **We both know of whom, or rather, what I speak.**

TT: Don't tell me you intend to nag me about the horrorterrors also.

TT: Let me guess, you want me to renounce them, and discard my apparently fake needles, and promise to do good and nice deeds forever, am I right?

 **Well, you will need to give your specibus to your friend. However the rest of that condescending statement is nonsense. My point is, that your perception of your wands as the tools of your power is holding you back.**

 **As are your dark patrons, to be honest, but that is neither here nor there.**

TT:Great. Wonderful. I can't trust them, then. Joy.

TT: Who would you suggest I trust then, you? That last fellow warned me not to.

TT: I don't even know what to do anymore. Jade's trying to get in touch, Chris is badgering me with questions, you're barraging me with a tide of rhetorical comments. What do I do?

 **Simply put, take up the ball, and ask it what you have just asked of me.**

 **-ErROr0346nOTfoUnD[ $]- Has Rejoined the Chat**

%: _You underhanded scheming cur._

 **What can I say, you were being a most discourteous host of this conversation. Do take notes. I try to set a good example.**

%#: _Rose, listen to me. This being is not to be trusted. His ball is not to be trusted._

 **Rose, despite having the best intentions for you, this individual is incorrect on both accounts.**

 **I have no intention of lying to you, and neither does my cueball that you have recovered.**

 **I know that it has already told you something. Go on, share with us what it said.**

TT: Well. It said, 'Listen to the Muse'. It's profoundly cryptic and useless.

TT: I do hope that this isn't representative of it's usual style of answers.

TT: Does it ring any bells for either of you?

 **I know exactly what it means, and it is rather humorous. It is a shame that you will never understand it.**

#^: _...I would say that that ball is wiser than you are._

TT: Alright. I am sick and tired of the both of you arguing. I will trust and deal with whomever I damn well please.

TT: Now then, what do I need to do with the ball again?

 **It is very simple Rose. Simply raise the ball, and ask it whatever question you desire. The ones you have been barraging me with, for instance. It really isn't complicated, do try and keep up.**

TT: Okay then. Here goes nothing.

 **-** **tentacleTherapist [TT]** **\- Is an idle Chum**

 **You know, there is no reason for your hostility.**

%: _Really now? How do you figure?_

$&: _I would say the fact that you serve a Universe genociding monster is a very good reason to hate and oppose you._

 **Perhaps, perhaps. Did you consider, however, that our goals are aligned for the time being?**

 **Your attempts to sabotage me, are only hurting your own plans in the short term. By attempting to drive madam Lalonde out of my counsel, you are only pushing her further into the clutches of the horrorterrors.**

# : _You think I am not aware of that?_

&*: _Maintaining this balancing act to keep her out of your clutches is difficult enough. I had hoped that she would see the blatantly corrupting extra-dimensional monsters for what they are._

#$: _Mankind never ceases to disappoint._

 **Of course. I have long thought the same of troll-kind, what with being the guardian of their world and all. Still, I at least had a... periodically disagreeable agent that could manipulate events upon their world whenever they strayed from my planed course.**

% : _I do not trust you. I do not like you. Your honeyed words will avail you nothing._

&#: _But I suppose that sabotaging you is counterproductive for now. Rose must be driven from the clutches of those tentacled fiends._

 **That is something upon which we can agree.**

!%: _If you say something along the lines of, 'But I already knew you would say that, of course. Hoo Hoo Hoo', I will break back into your tasteless and garish mansion, and wring your sock-puppet neck._

 **My mansion is objectively tasteful and classy. You are clearly incorrect.**

 **-** **tentacleTherapist [TT]** **\- Has Rejoined the Chat**

TT: I asked it what to do. It said to answer Jade.

TT: I suppose that having left her hanging all this time is a rather rude move.

TT: You know, I might just have her join this chat. Couldn't hurt to get a second opinion on you two...

 **-** **gardenGnostalgic [gG]** **\- Has Joined the Chat**

TT: Hello Jade. I apologize for leaving you waiting for so long.

TT: A majjyk white ball told me to reply right now.

gG: oh, rose, it's alright, don't worry at all.

gG: say, you seem really busy now. are you planning with john or something?

TT: Yes, but not with John.

TT: How do you know... Wait. I gave you a code for the cueball. Right.

!%: _You are handing out codes for that lying device now? Spreading it's corruption to your fellow players? Just when I thought you couldn't make any more terrible decisions._

gG: rose? who is this?

^: _A concerned party who's attempts at fixing Rose's mistakes are stifled by her at every turn._

%$: _Perhaps you can talk some sense into Rose._

 **Indeed. Rose has fallen in with some rather bad company. You should do your best to dissuade her from her path. Being her friend, you should hold some manner of influence over her.**

gG: i... wha...

gG: who are you people?

 **You really would not understand. Trust me, we have this conversation for a few more minutes before you give up. Suffice it to say that Rose has fallen under the influence of quite unsavory and manipulative beings.**

^: _...He is not incorrect._

TT: I am still here. You all know that, right?

TT: Anyway. I resent you all trying to dissuade me from my choices. The horror-terrors have not given me any reasons to question their intentions.

TT: They have been quite useful with their training and gifts.

gG: rose? whoever these people are, they seem to have a point.

TT: I disagree. They have yet to provide any credible evidence. All they seem capable of proving is that the horror-terrors are big and scary, and they live in a dark void.

TT: They really need to cease being so prejudiced.

gG: well, they might not be bad, i guess, but what if they are?

gG: they don't seem very trustworthy.

gG: ...i'm sorry for arguing with you rose, i know you're going through a hard time

gG: you have my condolences, i just wish i knew what to say right now

gG we've all got it rough right now

gG: i understand if you don't want to talk about it, but i... i... i'm here if you need me

TT: Jade? What are you talking about?

gG: ...what? you don't know?

gG: i thought for sure you already did

gG: gosh, well... uhh...

gG: it's johns dad...

gG: and... your mom

gG: ...rose?

gG: rose?

 **-** **tentacleTherapist [TT]** **\- Is an idle Chum**

gG: rose? im so sorry you had to find out like this,

gG: if you need to talk, we can start another chat,

gG: or if you want to be alone, just say so

 **-** **tentacleTherapist [TT]** **\- Has Rejoined the Chat**

TT: I... I don't blame you at all, Jade.

TT: ...It's difficult to come to grips with, you know?

TT: ...All this time, I always thought that she was destined for more than this ignoble end.

TT: She always seemed like she held all manner of secrets and mysteries, to be revealed when I came of age.

TT: I guess I'll never know now, will I?

gG: rose...

TT: I'm angry with myself, really.

TT: So many things I could have, should have said. All our passive-aggressive squabbles seem so petty now.

TT: ...I'm such a horrible daughter.

gG: rose! no you are not!

TT: I should have went to find her. Instead I wasted my time planning and scheming for a plan that probably won't even work.

gG: you're being way too hard on yourself! you couldn't predict what would happen.

gG: besides, you did so much for all of us, who knows where our team would be without all your hard work.

TT: John went to find his dad. He had every excuse not to, but he still managed to balance his responsibilities as a player and as a son.

TT: I should have done the same.

TT: No. You know what, no.

TT: I will not wallow in self pity like this. I refuse.

gG: um, rose, that doesn't sound like a really mentally healthy course of action

gG: i think you need to work through your feelings in some way

TT: That is irrelevant now. If I had acted earlier, this could have been prevented.

TT: To hell with this stupid plan. If I can do one last thing before this session unravels around us, I will kill that damn mutt.

gG: rose, you aren't thinking clearly, don't throw your life away

gG: four of us fought jack and he wiped the floor with us,

TT: I was already planning a suicide mission to bring down Jack. I was already planning to throw my life away, to fly my dream-self with a bomb to explode the Green Sun.

TT: How much more of a suicide mission can this possibly be?

gG: but you can't win, not like this

TT: I'm not so sure about that. The powers of the horror-terrors are stronger than you think.

TT: Besides, I will have two god-tiers with me.

gG: I... uh... two?

TT: I have Chris here with me, and John is on the battlefield.

gG: don't do this rose, this is a bad idea

TT: At this point, all ideas are pretty crummy.

TT: This way, I can ensure that that winged murderer is brought to a just end.

 **Ladies, if I might interject.**

TT: Go away. This is a very confidential discussion. Even if you already know it word for word.

 **I disagree. Madam Harley, you should know that at this moment, Rose's mind is not exactly her own...**

TT: Bullshit, that's a lie.

 **...Even though she has other opinions on the subject.**

 **It would be in everyone's best interests if you could talk her out of this foolish action.**

^: _It is rather blatant that she is not herself. Jade, as her friend, it falls to you to dissuade her._

%#: _If she begins on this course of action, her corruption by the horror-terrors will be complete, she will wreak irreparable damage upon your ailing session. Between her and Jack, it may break reality in your session completely._

&#: _Suffice it to say that horror-terrors are the curators of doomed timelines. Their only goal in this is to disassemble and, to use a human term, prune, your session. It goes without saying that such actions will destroy everything and everyone inside._

 _^#: They are not your allies, and they are not your friends._

gG: uh... rose, you heard them. This is a really bad idea

gG: please, trust me on this one

TT: Jade, I need you to trust me on this one. I know the horror-terrors, they are not malevolent entities.

 **You know, there is a way to bring your deliberations to a halt. To ascertain the dark god's motivations for certain. A certain white, spherical, omnipotent, and devilishly handsome object that happens to be nearby...**

TT: Very well. If only to get all of you off my back, I will consult the ball.

 **\- tentacleTherapist [TT] Has Ended the Chat-**

XXXXX

After a while, Chris had given up on peeking over Rose's shoulder to see her laptop screen. Shrugging, he had simply walked back to his chosen spot, and sat, gazing out at the horizon contemplatively.

This adventure with Rose was beginning to bother him. They had so far done nothing of interest. There were no cool chases, or sword fights, or even adventurous treasure hunts. Simply a lot of following the girl around, and waiting while she used pesterchum.

...Then again, he wasn't sure if 'more adventures' was a good thing. Sburb was the coolest thing ever, and made him feel like he was important for the first time in his life... but it had also killed everyone on Earth. The game had literally brought the end of the world. It had even killed him and all his friends. Thinking back to that moment upon the windswept ledge of his quest bed, Chris shivered involuntarily. Immediately, he tried to get his mind off of it.

Anything, he had to think about anything else. Like, say... how the lava below them kept bubbling... in a manner that was about as interesting as watching paint drying. The hollow sound of Evan's voice, the wind that seemed to cut through his clothes, the suffocating smog that enveloped his whole planet, they all refused to leave his mind. For a moment, he could still feel the piercing wind, smell the sharp acidic smoke... Shaking his head, Chris was about to find some deafening music on his laptop to listen to, when Rose suddenly gasped.

Curiously glancing over to her, grateful for the distraction, Chris watched her pick up her black majjyk ball, and stare into it with an emotionless ashen face. After a few moments, her mask crumbled, pure horror taking it's place, as she began breathing heavily.

Before he could ask what was wrong, she seemed to have calmed down completely, a determined and dangerous glint in her eyes, and returned to her strange conversation, more highly-strung than ever.

...Deciding to leave her to her furious typing, Chris once again cast his gaze out at the shimmering horizon. The more he thought about it, the more this planet reminded him of Evan's world. ...Albeit with the ash dunes replaced with cool robot buildings that moved.

The memory was bittersweet though. He remembered lying broken and helpless in the Winnebago, as Evan and Chester went off to...

Shaking his head more vigorously, he tried to think of something else... Of how he should improve his current outfit. Well, he thought it was super-fashionable and great, but perhaps he could polish his armour plates, or maybe add some shinies to his sword hilt to make it look flashy... Yes, there was definitely room for improvement.

Just as he was pondering the complex dilemma of adding a shiny trim to the edges of his armour, Rose had pushed her laptop away, and reached out for her white majjyk ball. Glancing to her, Chris smiled inside his helmet, he had found that ball, all of his treasure hunting skills were paying off.

Out of idle curiosity, he watched her lift the ball close to her face, and intently focus on it with a cross between an examining stare and a glare of barely hidden fury. He actually shuffled back for a moment. Rose seemed really upset, for whatever reason. Maybe she needed a hug.

She continued to focus on the ball, seemingly entranced by it, her face beginning to subtly grow darker and more haggard the longer she looked. Chris simply wondered what about the ball was so interesting, it never showed the ability to display far away places like the black ball, it didn't seem to do much of anything, to be honest.

Her grip on it tightening, Rose continued to peer into it's depths. Her skin noticeably began to darken, turning more and more ashen, while her eyes slowly had the colour drain from them.

It was only when wispy tendrils of dark smoke began to appear around her and the ball, that Chris realized something was... off.

"uh,Rose? He asked, "areyou okay?youdon't looktoo good..."

Slowly rising to his feet when she didn't respond or even acknowledge him, Chris warily regarded her. She seemed... hypnotized or something, kinda like the customers of that one back alley magician.

Maybe... he should try and get that ball away from her. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

Confidently approaching her, ignoring all of the ghostly smoke that began to surround her, while growing moderately concerned for her health, as having skin that could best be described as 'grey as a concrete floor' didn't sound very healthy, Chris reached out for the ball...

Immediately a dark tendril lashed out at him, sending a lance of agony searing through his hand. In that same instant, he reflexively phased out, and spent a few moments in the strange 'cold place' where nothing could touch him, nursing his hand.

Finally satisfied that the pain seemed to be fading to a dull ache, he glanced up to Rose, only to see that the ghostly smoke around her was no longer as wispy or incorporeal as it used to be...

It was now a swirling torrent of solid inky blackness that obscured much of her sitting form. Snaking coils of darkness formed behind her, hanging suspended in the air amidst an expanding dark cloud.

Hurriedly shuffling back from her, and once at a safe distance 'phasing in', Chris weighed his options. It didn't seem like 'getting it away from her', was as advisable an idea as he first thought...

As he was trying to come up with a better plan, Rose suddenly stood up, lowering the ball to her side, before captchaloguing it and drawing her wands. At this point, her skin was an unnatural slate-grey and her eyes were bottomless pools of black. Malevolent, eldritch whispers came from the shadows and smoke that clung to her like a shroud.

"uh...rose?" he ventured cautiously,

She did not regard him for even a moment. Uncaptchaloguing her wands, the girl strode a few paces away from him, before looking to the sky above, focusing intently on some distant point. Without a moment's pause, she launched herself into the sky, heading towards some unseen destination with rigid determination, trailing a stream of coiling tendrils and black smoke in her wake.

For a few moments, Chris stood stock still, shivering despite the planet's great heat.

What the heck had just happened?

Slowly, he walked over to the circle of majjyk stuff that she had left behind. The black spooky smoke had cleared when she had left, moments earlier, so he was moderately more comfortable with getting closer.

Looking around, he wondered just what exactly he was to do now...

A blinking light from Rose's abandoned laptop drew his notice. Sitting down, he looked closer at it's screen. It seemed like whatever she was doing on her laptop had caused this strange... event.

Noticing the open pesterchum conversation, Chris browsed it for a few seconds before a very strange and distinct message was added to the chat...

XXXXX

^: _Greetings Christopher._

TT: ohwowit's youagain

TT: ...waita second,how doyouknow it'sme?

& : _I know many things Christopher. For instance, I know that some very dark gods have outplayed us all, and Rose has been... possessed, for lack of a better term, by them._

TT: ohgosh,possessed? Isthatwhat allthe spookysmoke was?

TT: What'sgoingon canIhelp?

*%: _Your aid was exactly the thing I was about to ask of you._

^#: _Rose is going to the battlefield, in a foolish attempt to gain vengeance upon Jack Noir. You should follow her, and see that she survives her misguided attempt._

%: _Regrettably, she is rather important to your future success and survival._

TT: Soyou wantme tofollow hertothe battlefield?

% : _Precisely. Finding her should not be difficult, especially for someone of your esteemed talents._

*$: _Simply follow the trail of pure evil and darkness._

TT: Oh...okaythen... Iguess Ican dothat.

^&: _Excellent. You are once again, the only reliable human I have ever dealt with, Chris._

TT: oh,wow. Thanks!

TT: You're oneof mybestfriends! You'reso nice!

TT: ...anyway, IguessI needto gonow...

 **-ERroR0124nOtFoUnD[ $] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]-**

Looking contemplatively at the laptop screen for a few more moments, Chris went over events in his head. Rose had spent time on her laptop talking to gog knows who, somehow she got possessed, or whatever that was, and then she flew off to Skaia. He now had to go and find her.

Huh. That was a strange development.

Regardless, Chris would go through with what his mysterious friend had told him to do. He had not been steered wrong yet, and he was frankly just happy to speak to the really nice stranger again.

Standing up and uncaptchaloguing his sword, raising it to the sky heroically, Chris prepared to fly to the battlefield and save the day, proving his heroism to all, before lowering his sword and pausing.

Rose's laptop, her black majjyk ball, and some of her other stuff was still lying about... It would be rather rude of him to not bring it to her, to leave it lying around in the open, where anyone could take it... and if, say, some small shinies that wouldn't be missed disappeared during his trip, well, who could blame him?

Sheathing his sword, he quickly picked up and captchalogued all of the things, carefully tucking some of the small and unimportant (but quite shiny) baubles into the second layer of his inventory, safely out of sight.

Glancing around, satisfied that he was done, he drew his sword, turned his gaze heroically to the large blue orb in the sky that was Skaia, and soared into the air in pursuit of Rose.

 _ **A/N: The next chapter will be a long while. Sorry about that, but I hope this can tide you over in the meantime. Please review, and have a good day or evening or whatever.**_


	40. Act II: Chapter 13 (Sort of Part 2)

**_A/N: Wow. It has been so long. My sincerest apologies for the wait time folks. Uni has been a mess. For the most part, it's pretty miserable hard and awful. But what the hey, there's a degree and money somewhere at the end of this, or so I've been told. Things should be fine._**

 ** _In regards to the story, this took so much more time than I expected, but I don't think that's a bad thing. I figure you guys will appreciate the size, given the giant wait time. Anyway, the next chapter will be a short intermission, followed by another short one, that mainly focuses on all the tangled plot lines happening in the medium. We'll catch up with the trolls, see what Evan's upto... It'll be great, I hope._**

 ** _Thank you all for your support, and I once more ask for reviews and comments, I'll need all the support I can get to drag me through this miserable and exhausting time. (Cause I'm odd like that :p). By the way, feel free to shoot me a message and just chat, I don't have much of a life to speak of, so It'll be a welcome break._**

 ** _Anyway, I own nothing save the OC's, please give whatever feedback you can, thank you for all your support, and I hope you all enjoy._**

Upon a checkered blue planet, within a squat rotund castle, ringed with peaked towers, a lone figure robed in blue sat.

At this point, John Egbert was feeling rather lost. Idly sitting on a battlement, nestled between two pristine white merlons, he breathed deeply in mild disappointment and began to mentally review his plans.

Ever since he had found his dad's abandoned car, mostly crumpled and burnt, on the Land of Wind and Shade, John had scoured first his own planet, then the battlefield for any traces of his dad. Along the way several trolls had gotten in contact with him, and both had given him instructions of their own...

Well, at least Vriska did. Karkat just kinda shouted at him in all caps for a while, before giving up and leaving the chat.

He had tried his best to follow both Vriska's guidance, and his father's mysterious trail as best he could; even (he shuddered at the thought) dying to Jack Noir upon a quest slab, ascending to god-tier as the Heir of Breath in the process, but... this seemed to be it.

His dad's trail ended at this abandoned, presumably Prospitian, castle, and Vriska had been offline for a worryingly long time. He hoped the both of them were alright. He had never really appreciated his dad before, never grasped the full value of everything his father had done for him. Well, he kinda did, but he just felt like he should have said more, done more, back in those safer times. Now... it wasn't even really a surety that he would even meet up with his dad again...

Shaking his head in gruff annoyance, John scoffed at the idea. His dad would be fine, he had to be. Such a paragon of adult wisdom and competence would surely not fall to any mere game construct.

As for Vriska, well... She was complicated, to say the least. John kinda liked her, but at the same time, she seemed... ruthless. Earlier, she had deliberately arranged his death at Jack's sword. Albeit, with the end goal of pushing him to reach the god-tiers, which, he supposed, was not really something he could hate her for.

She was right, in a sense, that more god-tiers were certainly always better than less, but it was the way she did it that rubbed him the wrong way. Deliberately withholding information, outright lying to him and manipulating him towards his own murder... that rubbed him the wrong way, justified or not.

Her silence worried him though. Her last transmission was hours ago, and was completely normal, as he could tell. He just hoped that nothing bad had happened to her. Manipulative or not, her guidance was the only thing really directing him at that point.

Although, she had mentioned her intentions to fight Jack one-on-one... John really hoped she hadn't actually gone ahead with that plan. She didn't seem to plan on doing that, not for a while, at least. Vriska had impressed upon him that whatever mysterious end goal she had for him was to be her backup plan, and that she really had no intentions to fight Jack _before_ said backup plan was up and running.

Just as he had flipped his blue windsock-hood up, and prepared to fly off, to perhaps get an aerial view of the surrounding landscape, to try and find some trace of his dad that he might have missed, his pesterchum suddenly beeped with an all too familiar and annoying sound.

- **arachnidsGrip [aG** **]** began pestering **ectoBiologist [eB]** -

aG: Ah, John, You're exactly where I need you now.

eB: vriska?

eB: you are finally back!

eB: what is going on over there, you disappeared for hours.

eB: i was kind of getting worried there.

eB: i know you are really cool and tough and all that, but i...

aG: John, it's fine.

aG: Well...

aG: Actually, I suppose that I'm not exactly fine, 8eing paralyzed in 8ed and all that,

aG: 8ut what the hell, at least torea... tavros actually did something willful and impressive for a change

aG: I mean, he massively messed it up at the end, 8ut hey, gru8 steps.

aG: May8e he isn't such a waste of oxygen after all.

eB: PARALYZED!?

eB: what is going on over there?

aG: Nothing especially major. Simply put, all of my prodding has finally revealed that Tavros has a 8ack8one after all.

eB: are you okay?

aG: I am very much alive, thank you for asking,

aG: The situation could certainly 8e 8etter, and I'm in no shape to go fight Jack.

aG: At least I'll have a pair of metal legs to go with my arm.

eB: what happened?

aG: Well, I went to fight Jack. Tavros took exception to that.

aG: One poorly executed am8ush later, we 8oth took a fall down a metal stairwell.

aG: Tavros 8roke his legs. Again.

aG: Pro8a8ly most of his ri8s too, or something like that, I don't especially care.

aG: He passed out and stopped screaming fairly quickly.

aG: As you already know, I 8roke 8oth my legs, and damaged my ro8ot arm.

aG: Still, I'm a 8ig girl. I am handling it.

eB: are you okay though?

eB: I guess your alien friends are helping you with, like, doctor stuff?

aG: Sort of. Kanaya's the only one with experience that somewhat vaguely resembles healer training.

aG: Feferi's here too. Mostly watching, 8ut I suppose her stupid Life-something god-tier is useful for this.

aG: They've gotten me mostly sta8le right now, pro8a8ly going to take my left leg off at the thigh, and replace it completely, while just putting some load-8earing joints and hydraulics on my right, since they could set most of the 8ones.

aG: Went through it all without painkillers 8y the way, cause I'm just that tough.

eB: well, err...

eB: that's terrible, but I guess i'm glad that you're still alive

aG: Yeah, it would have pro8a8ly been a Just death for me, no coming 8ack allowed.

aG: I guess I should be happy at toreadumbass's failings for once.

aG: I might 8e here a while though, Equius is somewhere in another room, he's pretty messed up.

aG: I doubt he'll be able to get any more ro8ot legs working anytime soon.

eB: gosh, what happened to him?

aG: I don't know. Kanaya and Fef are fussing over him now in the other room.

aG: it seems like he's in rough shape.

aG: 8ut all that doesn't matter, John.

aG: The point is, that I can't really fulfill plan A anymore.

aG: Therefore, it's up to you now.

aG: You have to kill Jack now.

eB: umm...

eB: what should i do?

aG: Well, remember that plan we half-cooked up?

eB: the thing rose was trying to do, blow up the green sun?

aG: Precisely.

aG: You're on the 8attlefield now, so you might as well extract the tumor from it right now. Just captchalog it or something.

eB: i still don't quite get it though, what is the tumor really?

aG: It's not that hard. It's a giant majjyk 8om8 inside Skaia.

aG: You get into the planet's core, you drill it out with your windy powers,

aG: You fly it into the furthest ring, toss it into the green sun,

aG: And that's all there is to it. ::::)

eB: well, okay then.

eB: is there anywhere specific i need to try and dig?

aG: Wherever you feel like.

aG: Kanaya's coming back now. You know what to do.

aG: Hop to it.

- **arachnidsGrip [aG]** ceased pestering **ectoBiologist [eB]** -

After Vriska left, John recaptchalogued his PDA, and contemplatively stared down at the ground far below. The castle was situated upon a slight hillside, and held commanding views of the surrounding valley.

The omnipresent black and white tiles that made up the ground stretched out to the horizon, little hamlets, forests, and ponds nestled upon them. Squinting, he began to ponder his next course of action.

Thinking back to his time upon the gloomy, wet bog that was the Land of Wind and Shade, he shook his head slightly in disappointment, Vriska overestimated his ability to do the 'Windy thing', as it had been dubbed. God-tier or not, that one particular instance of him using his powers to put out the burning oceans of oil, and to ever-so-briefly, scatter the black clouds was more of a fortunate accident, more than anything else.

Maybe his powers had asserted themselves temporarily in that moment, to keep him from burning to a crisp. Sure, he had come all the way here in his dad's beat up old car, which he had made to fly with windy powers, but that was a far cry from...

He wasn't sure what Vriska even expected him to do, really. Wind could not dislodge the entire crust of a planet very easily... Hmmm... He was sure there was something he could do here, but it just wasn't coming to him.

 _How would_ he go about getting to the planet's core? ...Stripping all it's crust away seemed just impossible. On top of that, he realized with a shudder, all the cute little carapacians on it's surface would... Oh gog. If they were on the planet when he removed its crust...

That half-baked plan was definitely out.

Furrowing his brow in concentration, John tried to ignore the annoying wind as it batted his trailing hood around. He just needed to think...

Vaguely, he recalled a terrible superhero movie he'd seen, it had been played after a Con-Air rerun on Tv... The hero there had windy powers... What was it that he'd done again?

...

Oh gog. He had it.

The corny tv superhero had used his windy powers to create a controlled tornado, which he then used to break into the villain's underground base... by acting as a giant windy drill...

Glancing slowly at his hands, then back out at the wide sweeping expanse of the valley's checkered floor. Slowly rising to a stand, reaching out to the merlons for support, John began to very carefully think about what he was about to do.

Conjuring a giant tornado did not sound like an especially safe course of action, but it was clearly better than trying to rip chunks of the planet's crust off, or any other plan like that. So long as it was kept under control, everything would be fine, right? Well, he'd kept a car levitated for a good part of twenty minutes. It wasn't like he didn't know what he was doing. Sort of.

Swallowing his uncertainty, John took a deep breath, and stepped forwards, off the battlements, and into the welcoming embrace of the air.

His body instinctively slowed, then stopped its descent.

He allowed himself to float there in suspension for a few moments, vaguely comforted by the light breeze gently flowing past him, and the serene feeling of weightlessness that always came over him when he flew.

John then angled himself forwards slightly, and with the grace that only a Breath player could achieve, swiftly glided a few miles into the valley, away from the castle and other points of settlement.

Rising to about a mile above the ground and glancing downwards analytically, he began to plan just where and how he was going to do this. Any mistake could be rather disastrous.

Slowly and deliberately raising his arms, John did the windy thing.

Immediately, the wind stopped completely, his blue windsock-hood slackened and hung limp. It seemed like all the noise on the planet stopped in anticipation. The pressure in the air began to build, just as it would before a lightning strike or some great, cataclysmic storm. With unnatural speed, black as pitch clouds began to form over the valley, funnelling and coalescing inwards, towards the floating god-tier.

More and more clouds formed, joining the rapidly expanding swirling spiral of inky vapour as it shrouded the entirety of the valley in an unnatural night. The churning storm grew until it could be seen from space, a great morass of darkness that covered a quarter of the planet, a near-invisible blue speck at it's heart.

Visibly straining, John grunted in exertion as he slowly bent the mega-storm to his will, forcing the winds and clouds closer and closer together, into an ever tightening spiral. On the ground far below, the winds whipped themselves into a gale-force frenzy. Trees were ripped from the ground, hurled across the landscape like tiny matchsticks. Lakes and rivers churned and shook, overflowing their boundaries and flooding the surrounding empty fields. Dust and dirt were swept up off the ground, creating a dust storm that dropped visibility to near-nothing. The constant hail of sand and grit was so intense it scoured the bark off the few trees that still stood.

As the winds finally built to a terrible crescendo, and a mountain sized spiral of wind and clouds and dust formed above the valley, John gave a final push, and the great drill of wind descended to the ground below.

For a moment, nothing but the dull roar of the swirling winds could be heard.

Then, the ground screamed as the drill plunged into it, throwing hundreds of tons of dirt and rock into the air within the first few moments. Despite the nearly insurmountable resistance, John pushed all of his power into it, sending the winds spinning faster and faster, pushing them downwards with enough force to displace hundreds of thousands of tons of ground within moments.

The entire planet shook and trembled. All across Skaia, great cracks formed as tectonic plates split. Oceans were whipped into a frenzy, sending enormous tsunamis to pound coastal areas. Nearly all buildings upon the planet's surface began to shake and tremble violently, only the ones on the far side of the world remaining intact.

Tiny terrified carapacians, Dersites and Prospitians, both loyalists to their monarchs, as well as those renegades and revolutionaries that marched beside the Warweary Villein in his doomed march of uprising against the Black King, cowered together in whatever scant shelter they could find. It seemed like the planet itself was about to fall apart.

Slowly but inexorably, the drill pushed forwards, reducing the valley into a horrific pile of shredded and pulverized rocks and boulders, some tiny, others dwarfing the castle that had long since been blown apart into bricks. John could distantly tell that things looked rough outside his spot in the heart of the storm, but he had no option but to keep going.

For what felt like forever, he guided it further and further downwards, every part of his body burning, despite his lack of physical exertion. Eventually the drill pushed so far down into the earth that it was completely below the ground, leaving a mile wide, perfectly smooth circular cut into the ground. Still suspended deep inside the swirling storm of dark, dusty clouds, John smoothly lowered himself after it.

Guiding the winds behind him to eject the streams of rubble backwards and out of the hole, John continued pushing the storm forwards, gradually loosing all track of his progress in the light-less hole that seemed to continue forever.

He was fairly sure that when he found 'The Tumour', he'd know it. According to Vriska, it was a 'majjyk bomb', inside the hollow core of the planet. If that wouldn't be self evident when he came across it, he wasn't sure what else could be.

Mentally bringing himself back on track, he refocused his attention on keeping the winds under control and moving forwards. Briefly, he glanced back, catching a glimpse of a faint light at the end of a very, very long tunnel.

' _It couldn't be far now_ ,' he thought.

Just as that brief snippet passed through his mind, something happened up ahead of him, where the tip of the storm had been furiously cutting it's way through the planet. Suddenly, the constant resistance offered by the solid rock surrounding him faded away, first at the very tip, then all along the face of the drill. The omnipresent dull roar faded to nothing as a sudden gust of musty air brushed past him.

John immediately released the winds, allowing the storm to gently disappear over the course of a minute. When the dusty air cleared enough, John uncaptchalogued his PDA, and activated the 'Flashlight' function, shining the tiny light forwards, towards what could only be the core of the planet.

The smooth worn away walls of the tunnel ended a few hundred feet ahead. There, they gave way to a inky black hole, from which the unmistakable scent of old, musty air wafted.

John glanced over his shoulder, to see how far he had come. To his utter shock, the exit to the tunnel was little more than a minuscule pinprick, visible only against the black walls and floor of the tunnel.

He didn't allow his surprise to delay him for long. There was a job to do.

Cautiously, he turned around and advanced to the edge, where the tunnel ended, and where the black cavern beyond began. Holding the lit PDA forwards with an outstretched arm, John slowly leaned out over the lip of the tunnel, and gently stepped forwards, using his flight to keep himself level and aloft.

Quickly sweeping the light side to side, he got a general understanding of the vaguely spherical cavern that stretched out around him. It was enormous, easily big enough to fit a small city, skyscrapers and all inside it. In the centre of it though, hanging in suspension seemingly without any support, was what caught his gaze.

A giant spiky ball, as tall as an office building, floated before him. It was partially black and white, in a manner resembling that yin-yang thing that was, like, a necklace or symbol or something. The object was quite intimidating, he was nearly an insect compared to it.

Floating closer, John shivered slightly, the ball felt slightly... _wrong_. Still, this was unmistakably the Tumour. He did it. Huh.

Allowing himself a moment to savour the fact that he was actually here, that he'd actually done it, John then realized he had to get it out of there somehow...

That could be a problem...

Critically examining both it, and the far too small hole that he had burrowed into the chamber, he came to the astounding conclusion that perhaps, there really was no way for him to levitate it out or something. Unless he wanted to cause even further damage to the planet and burrow a bigger hole, he was going to have to find an alternate way.

Thoughtfully crossing his arms, John wondered for several long moments just what he was supposed to do with the thing. There really just wasn't an obvious way to transport a skyscraper sized giant ball.

Unless...

Could it really be that simple?

Struck with inspiration, John slowly approached the Tumour, hoping that this harebrained scheme would actually work...

Once he was so close he could actually reach out and touch the sphere, he focused on it, and mentally accessed his fetch-modus. Crossing his fingers mentally, he tried to captchalog the entire thing...

With a blinding flash that suddenly lit up the entire cavern, even brighter than day, the Tumour vanished. John spent several seconds actually processing that it really worked. Opening his wallet-modus, he confirmed that, yes, the giant black and white spiked ball genuinely seemed to be contained within.

The captchalog systems had numerous limitations, chief among them being size and weight, yet this thing somehow fit inside on the first try, offering no problems at all. John wasn't an inventory scientist, but he was fairly sure it wasn't supposed to work like that.

Still, results were results, perhaps the ball was just special or something.

Dismissing the odd phenomenon, he turned back the way he came. His job was done here... Now he just needed to figure out what to do next. Apart from vague mutterings about a green sun or something, Vriska had never specified what he should actually do with the majjyk bomb if he'd ever acquired it.

Glancing up the length of the tunnel-way, he resolved to try to contact Vriska again or something once he got out. At the very least, he sort of had a grasp on his windy powers now, so he could actually fly with some degree of fluid and precise control. That was nice.

Riding a gentle gust of wind, John slowly manoeuvred back towards the small opening he'd created. Once safely inside, he began to fly forwards, towards the pinprick sized light at the end of the tunnel.

He started off rather slow and cautious, but once he redeveloped a feel for the passage and it's subtle shifts in height, he began to accelerate faster and faster, the blue windsock-hood wildly billowing in his wake as he shot back to the surface, a blue blur of motion.

Travelling from the planet's core to it's surface took little time. Soon enough, he rocketed out of the hole he'd bored in the valley, scattering nearby boulders and rocks with the pressurized column of air he had rode upwards.

He rose a few hundred feet, riding the wave of air he'd channelled, before levelling out and surveying the newly changed landscape. His jaw dropped. What was once an idyllic and remote valley, watched over by a small castle perched upon a hill, was now filled with millions of tons of shredded and crushed rock. Much of the valley's floor was no longer even visible, as nearly a hundred feet of rock was now piled up upon it. The castle was completely gone, even it's foundations had been utterly blown away and buried beneath a sea of rubble.

Shivering, John looked down at his hands.

"did... did i do all that... how?" he muttered, now no longer quite comfortable with his windy powers.

Glancing around at the horizon, seeing similar devastation spreading to the horizon and likely beyond, he feared that the little chess people might have gotten hurt, or worse. The valley was empty, and the castle abandoned, but the winds had scoured and destroyed land even outside the valley's confines.

The entire valley itself had been rather remote, on a mostly empty and ungarrisoned part of one of the smaller continents, so John hoped that no-one happened to be nearby when the storm hit.

It was, after all, quite remote, he placated himself. Obviously no-one was anywhere near there. There was nothing to worry about. ...Right?

Still, his perception of 'the windy thing' was now quite altered. He'd never before even thought about doing it on such a scale, and the results were terrifyingly destructive. John resolved to make extra sure to be careful in it's use.

Still eyeing his desolate surroundings with a guilty, cautious stare, John began to bring his thoughts back on track. The tumour. Right. He needed to figure out what to do with it, given that he now actually had it.

He still didn't really know what exactly a 'Green Sun' was. Well, he assumed that it was probably green, and also maybe a star. Apart from that though, he had absolutely no idea what to do.

Then, it hit him. He didn't know what to do, but Vriska did. Why should he just stand around and waste time thinking about things, when he could just ask her, and then just do what she said.

Pulling out his Dad's... _his_ wallet, John slowly uncaptchalogued his PDA, and sent a quick blurb of text to Vriska.

- **ectoBiologist [eB]** began pestering **arachnidsGrip [aG]** -

eB: vriska! are you there?

eB: i really need your advice now

aG: John? What do you want now?

eB: well, i have the tumor, but I don't know what to do with it

eB: what was that green sun thing you mentioned, again?

aG: Look, Kanaya's here, looking really impatiently at me with that saw of hers, so I'll make this quick.

aG: That edgy smart girl in your session, rose or wh8ver, she's 8asically doing the green sun plan in your session anyway. Just give the thing to her.

eB: that's it?

aG: Simple plans seem to work the 8est, regretta8ly.

aG: Honestly, where would any of you 8e without me?

aG: Pro8a8ly all dead in a doomed timeline or something, I suspect.

aG: Anyway, you're welcome for my 8rilliance, and yeah... just give the 8om8 to your friend.

aG: It's not that hard.

eB: thanks, i'll get right on that

aG: Yeah, wh8ver. I guess we can talk more after I get my leg chopped off. See you l8r, John. Take care of yourself out there.

eB: uh, yeah. you as well, i guess.

eB: well, you're already kinda hurt

eB: err... try not to get more hurt, i mean.

eB: okay bye

- **ectoBiologist [eB]** ceased pestering **arachnidsGrip [aG]** -

Exiting the conversation, and absentmindedly captchaloguing his PDA, John began to think about just how he was going to get his wallet bomb all the way across the entire solar system that was the Medium.

He would need, like, a spaceship or something.

Hmmm...

Just as he was in the middle of some really deep and important ponderings, a noise from behind him drew his immediate attention. Turning around quizzically, he somewhat guiltily checked behind him. Hopefully that wasn't an adorable little chess-person, struggling under a giant rock somewhere over there...

However, it didn't seem like that was the case. The grey and dusty wasteland around him seemed rather lifeless. Whether or not that was a good thing still remained to be seen.

Just as he was about to turn away, a small, very familiar shape hopped up onto a nearby outcrop of rock. It then hopped to another, closer to him. They were both within a few feet now.

John's eyes widened in happy surprise.

It was the bunny. The adorable gift that had been passed around his group of friends, somehow acquiring cybernetic enhancements and limited sentience along the way. The authentic, endearing little toy that had been given by a grizzled yet fatherly Nicholas Cage to his beloved daughter.

For whatever reason, the semi-robot bunny was in front of him, staring at him expectantly from behind it's featureless metal visor.

John suddenly noticed more movement, to his right. What was this, the bunny had brought a friend?

Sure enough, a little carapacian slowly waddled out from between two larger rocks. It was one of the black carapaced Dersite ones, clad in adorable colourful jester robes. The little guy was also quite short, even in comparison to that other Dersite he'd travelled with earlier.

Thinking back, John still had no idea why that chess-guy was wearing his old bed-sheets in a cute robe.

Regardless, he turned back to the odd pair. The bunny continued to stare at him, seemingly annoyed and impatient. John frowned. What did the bunny even want from him? He didn't really remember ever having any obligations or anything that had to do with it. So, what did it want?

As if sensing his confusion, the worn bunny stamped it's foot, crossed it's arms, and nodded it's tiny head upwards. John followed it's gaze upwards, wondering why it was pestering him.

At first, he couldn't see what it was trying to show him.

Then, he caught a glimpse of... something, way up there, a tiny speck against the enormous expanse of Skaia's sky. A purple, vaguely familiar speck.

...Oh.

John quickly glanced back down at the chess-person and the bunny. Then back up.

Oh.

He was beginning to get an idea...

Hoping against hope that he wasn't making a big blunder, john reached out with his windy powers, and, as gently as he could, grabbed the tiny speck and began dragging it down to the planet's surface. He wasn't unleashing his full power, so there was only a gentle breeze that danced over the ruined, tumbled rocks that carpeted the valley. Only a brief flicker of air nudged his hood, side to side, just slightly.

Despite the sheer planet-tunnelling power of the winds, they still struggled to bring it down. It was as if the tiny speck was writhing against his intangible grip. Well, that confirmed his half-baked theory, at the very least. It was very much a difficult task, pull too hard and he might break it, too softly, and it might slip away. Still, John kept at it. It was almost like fishing, in a way. Not that his dad had ever taken him fishing, but still.

After much effort and exertion on his part, it grew close enough that he could actually see it for what it was. A purple Dersite warship. A fairly small one, actually, barely the length of three football fields.

Like the few others of it's kind that John had encountered before, it was long, straight, and jagged, like an arrowhead. Royal purple covered every part of it, while elaborate decorative buttresses and crenellations rose from it's hull. Small engines flickered and burned a brilliant blue, trying desperately to escape his grip.

Still, it was perfect. It's diminutive size might even be better for what he had in mind.

With a final, gentle, tug and a steady pull downwards, John brought it so close to the ground that it's spine scraped the grey boulders that carpeted the valley. It's thrusters (which John was careful to orient away from himself and the group) singed a wide cone of rocks to a crisp black.

Once it was 'parked', for lack of a better term, it took far less power to keep it in place, so John began the next part of his plan. With an aside gesture, he picked up the Bunny and ...its diminutive Dersite companion in a gentle cloud of air. Simultaneously levitating himself upwards, mostly through normal god-tier powers, he quickly flew to the bridge of the ship, companions trailing securely behind him.

For whatever reason (likely sheer terror) the ship wasn't trying to shoot him, or do anything else really, apart from floundering and thrashing in his windy grip. He hoped he hadn't frightened them too badly, he just wanted their help, after all.

Coming up to the heavily tinted panes of glass that surrounded the raised bridge tower on three sides, John paused for a quarter of a moment, before shrugging and just captchaloguing the pane in-front of him, and simply floating through the resulting hole into the dim interior of the ship.

Carefully, he also manoeuvred his companions through the open window, he really didn't want either of them to hit their heads or something because of him.

Settling down inside the cool insides of the bridge, John took a moment to look around and take in the situation. The bridge tower was fairly small and compact, maybe forty feet wide in all. Not that that was a small size, just... small in comparison to the larger behemoths that both kingdoms seemed so fond of. About two banks of monitors wrapped in a U-shaped pattern around the edges of the tower, while a central command chair rose in the room's centre. Several wide monitors covered the walls, showing maps of the planet, as well as a cross-section of the ship. John guiltily noted that most of them were quite chaotically flashing red, and urgently displaying strings of incomprehensible symbols.

The bridge was surprisingly sparsely populated, with only a dozen or so chess-people sitting behind the monitor banks, most of whom were quite terrified at his entrance, some crawling under their desks to hide. The one on the chair seemed just as terrified, but better dressed and probably in charge. The presumed captain wore a tricorned pirate hat, complete with black coat, frilly neckerchief and eye-patch. Despite his dress, he too was shaking and shivering.

John gulped, he didn't want to scare them, he just needed to talk to them. The situation seemed about to get out of hand, he just needed to find a leader or something to explain himself to.

Glancing back at the command chair, more specifically, at the slightly taller Dersite that perched on it, eyeing him with a mix of pure terror and adoration; John took a few slow steps forward, and began to explain.

"uhh, hello there, i'm err... john, john egbert," he began, trying to put them at ease.

"i come in peace, i guess,"

The carapacians seemed to understand him to some extent, at least, and some visibly slowed their shaking and cowering.

"im really sorry to interrupt your cruise or whatever, but i really need your help," he continued passionately, explaining, "you see, we're trying to fight jack noir, and i realize that you all know he's a really bad guy and responsible for lots of death and stuff..."

At the mere mention of the sovereign slayer's name, everyone on the bridge froze in pure animal terror. The tiny captain gripped his armrests so tightly that his carapace actually turned slightly white.

John frantically backpedalled, trying to salvage the situation, "its okay! we have a plan to defeat him"

The entire crew save the captain were busy shivering and hiding under their desks. The ship's operator though, leaned in, all traces of fear now gone, and stared at John curiously. Sensing the unspoken request of 'continue', John went on,

"well, i don't quite know all of the details at this point, but we're going to use a bomb to blow up jack's power source. but we need to get it to someone else first."

The captain nodded slowly, seemingly realizing where this was going.

"we need your help and your ship, to defeat jack. i can see you guys aren't too fond of him, and really, no-one should be, he's a pure monster" John pushed his request,

There was a brief pause, where the Dersite contemplatively nodded for a few moments to itself, before reaching over to it's left armrest and pressing a few buttons. It spoke into some sort of built in microphone in a shrill squeaky language for a few curt phrases, before severing the link and turning back to John.

Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, it stood, and waddled slowly over to him, before raising it's hand in an unmistakable gesture.

John beamed and shook it's hand, trying not to notice how much it was actually trembling.

After they separated, he took a step back and waved the bunny and it's friend forward.

Kneeling before the bunny, John uncaptchalogued his dad's wallet, within which was contained the tumour, and held it out to the small semi-robot.

The bunny gently reached out with a fuzzy stuffed paw, and took the wallet, placing it inside a metal slit in it's chest for safe-keeping.

John put a hand on it's little shoulder, almost overcome with emotion.

"deliver it safely, and be careful little guy" he whispered

The bunny nodded, and then marched to the waiting Captain, nodding to him.

The other small Dersite followed suit, walking over to the Captain and beginning to, presumably, offer some kind of elaborate explanation, if all the hand waving and squeaking had anything to do with it.

John smiled, waved warmly at the crew and his little companions, and levitated himself out of the open window, recaptchaloguing it back into place on his way out. The bunny knew what to do. It was smarter than most would give it credit for; and it even had a little friend that could talk to the locals. Everything should be fine.

Now free of the ship, he rapidly launched himself across the valley with a great gust of wind, wanting to give the ship some space to do whatever it needed to do.

Settling down on a worn down chunk of battered rock, John sat and watched the purple ship...

It actually took quite a while for it to get things organized, but eventually, the blue thrusters flared a brilliant near-white, and the ship slowly lifted it's nose, and gradually began to ascend into the sky, picking up speed as it went.

Soon, it was only a speck of blue light in the sky, growing dimmer and smaller by the moment. John sighed happily, he hoped they would find Rose okay. He hoped she could figure things out and get her part of the plan done safely.

He wondered what his friends were up-to, it had been a while since they last spoke.

He hoped they were all safe. The session was rapidly becoming a rather dangerous place.

On that note, his thoughts turned to his dad. His trail had gone cold at the now levelled castle... John hoped he was safe. Maybe now that his part in Vriska's plan was done, he could get back to trying to find him.

As he continued to think about the castle, and about the last few clues left by his missing father, something on the distant horizon drew his curious attention...

It was, like, a storm or something. A great twisting tendril of unnaturally black clouds was slowly reaching down towards the ground, like the hand of some great giant. Even looking at it made John really uneasy and sent a chill down his spine, for some unexplainable reason.

Shuddering, he kept looking, transfixed by the sight.

It was vaguely reminiscent of a tornado or twister, except that tendrils of inky smoke coiled and wound around the central spiral. Flashes of ominous violet lightning lit up the mass of smoke from within.

Squinting, he could vaguely make out another, slightly larger, white fortress at the point where it's tip was almost brushing the ground.

The cloud felt... evil in some way, though there was no way that it could actually have an 'aura' or something, that would be silly. Still, it was certainly something noteworthy, at the very least.

Perhaps it even had something to do with his dad...

Even if it didn't, it wasn't like he had any actual leads or clues at the moment. Lifting into the air with natural skill, John quickly flew towards it. This was definitely something worth investigating...

XXXXX

The swirling black clouds had turned into a full blown storm when he reached the castle. Great, fat, oily black drops fell from the sky in a cascading torrent. Occasional flashes of violet lightning crackled across the dark skies, charging the air with the heavy taste of ozone.

The entire storm felt... wrong.

Shivering against the piercing winds, John found an open crenellation jutting out of an exterior wall. Manoeuvring into it, he sighed happily, finally out of the strange wind that he couldn't really make stop.

Getting his bearings, John saw that he was inside a fairly small storage room of some sort. Large ammunition crates decorated in the gold of Prospit were stacked against the walls, and several burlap sacks containing some kind of foodstuffs lay in one corner. A heavy sheet of dust covered everything, and it was clear that, much like the other fort, this one hadn't seen use in quite some time.

Crossing the room to the small door on the other end, John pressed a hand against it, and pushed it outwards, stepping into the dark corridor beyond.

Taking a look around, he noticed that he was now in a long corridor stretching out both to his left and right, darkness obscuring the ends of the passage. Torn banners of both Purple and Gold limply hung from the walls. Both pikes and strange rifles were haphazardly strewn against the walls, engraved with both purple and gold...

It seemed quite odd to John that the owning kingdom would have the iconography of it's enemy in their own base. He shrugged, maybe they just ran out of supplies and weapons or something, who cared, it probably wasn't important.

Somewhat at random, he chose to go left. As far as he remembered from the similar enough other castle, both passages would ultimately hook inwards and lead to the internal rooms anyway.

He noticed that the shadows seemed... somehow darker in the corridor than they possibly could be. It was like... they were blacker than black. That didn't make any sense, but it felt exactly like that. John didn't much care for it, it made his vision begin to swim.

A few times he stopped dead in his tracks because he could have sworn that he'd heard a voice or something off to the side or behind him... Yet he was clearly alone. Gritting his teeth, determined to check the castle for his father, John pushed forwards.

Finally reaching the hook in the passage, he came to a door that led to the interior guts of the fort.

Creaking it open, he stepped into a large central chamber. An enormous stone idol of a frog, ' _likely bilious slick'_ , John mused, dominated the centre of the room. It's head was severed however, seemingly with a single stroke of some great bladed device. The froggy stone head blocked a passageway at the other way at the end of the room. Once again both Dersite and Prospitian banners hung from the walls. Even more crates of weapons and other equipment were piled around the room. What looked like a makeshift hospital with tents and stretchers was set up off to the left, in one corner.

Oh, and there were plenty of dead bodies.

Both Dersite and Prospitian bodies littered the room, covered in their own blood. John gaped in shock and disgust. Strangely, it didn't seem like any of them had fought each-other. He wasn't quite sure why he'd focused on that gross and terrible tiny little point, but still, it made one wonder.

What happened here?

Slowly taking cautious steps into the room, uncaptchaloguing the colourful and silly war-hammer of Zillyhoo, John flickered his gaze around, looking for whoever... or _what_ ever killed all those cute little chess-people.

Stepping slightly closer to the two parts that used to be a male Dersite, John uneasily looked at the body. Disgusted and uncomfortable as all heck, he saw one point of note. It seemed like the body was cut in two with about one swing from some kind of bladed weapon.

Gratefully shifting his gaze away from the grisly sight, John half-ran away from the body, and made his way to the edge of the room. Clearly, his dad wasn't here. Now what?

Taking another look around, squeamishly trying not to look at the fallen bodies, John spotted a trail of bloody foot...err.. _.paw_ prints leading out of the chamber, heading to a side door.

That was as good a lead as any.

He was actually beginning to hope that he wouldn't find his dad here. This seemed like a very dangerous place.

Crossing the room, he pushed his way through the door, found his way onto a downwards heading staircase, and followed into the gloom of the castle's crypts.

XXXXX

For a long while, John followed the steep carved stairs down, into the musty gloom of the castle's undersides. He'd snatched a torch from a wall sconce that was still filled, and was now using it to light his way.

It was cold, really cold, causing him to shiver deeper into his thin god-tier clothes. He took a few more steps downwards, the flickering light of his dim torch casting eerie shadows down the length of the stairs, when an idea came to him. Carefully using a gentle stream of wind, he took some of the warm air around the lit tip of his torch, and pulled the air closer to him, wrapping it around his body.

Immediately, he smiled faintly and stood straighter. That was better.

Passively continuing to funnel the air towards him, John kept descending, zillyhoo still held in his free hand. Perhaps he'd finally figure out what was going on in here. Then again, did he really want to know?

Finally, the bottom of the stairs was in sight. Strange, ghostly black fog coiled around the landing, making him rather uneasy at the sight of it. Was it just him, or were the shadows beginning to grow deeper and blacker?

Shaking his head to clear such silly thoughts, John took the last few steps down, and found himself in some kind of food storage area. Though... judging from the smell, it seemed like most of the food... wasn't really food anymore.

Short, squat arched ceilings made up the roof, braced by an innumerable multitude of worn, stubby columns. Yet more crates of varying sizes and faction colours were piled in heaps around the room, and even more lumpy burlap sacks were laid in piles.

Lighting was non-existent. The only glow in the room was his dim, softly flickering torch. If John was a scaredy-cat, he'd be positively unnerved right then.

But he wasn't.

Only somewhat shivering, (and not from the cold) John pushed deeper into the cellar or, whatever this crypt-like storage chamber was. To be honest, he wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. Maybe he should just try to find his way out and leave. This place was cold, and dark, and smelly and clammy. His dad probably wasn't here. There didn't seem to be anyone even left here. Well, anyone alive, that is. There were plenty of bodies upstairs...

Just as he was strongly considering just tunnelling through a wall and going somewhere else, a faint purple light flickered in the gloom, somewhere vaguely ahead.

Intrigued, John followed.

So intent was he on his prize, that he lost track of where he was and how long he'd been walking, finally returning to his senses in the middle of the cavernous room, darkness all around him. The strange light seemed no closer than it first was, as if it was actively moving...

Furrowing his brow in mild confusion, John walked faster, torch held higher in the air to try and offer some greater vestige of light. The flickering purple light finally seemed to grow brighter and closer, though slowly.

As he drew even closer, his torch began to illuminate a grimy and old wall. He had reached the other end of the storage chamber. An arched passage was in the middle of the wall, leading to some other dark space beyond. Somewhere in the adjoining room, the violet light shone, very bright now, almost painfully so.

John hesitated at the entryway for a moment. The temperature felt like it had suddenly dropped again, he felt a popping in his ears, and sudden whispers appeared at the absolute edge of his hearing, nearly imperceptible, but there.

He wasn't quite sure what tomfoolery was going on, but one way or another, he was getting to the bottom of it. Biting back whatever dread he had, tightly clutching the zillyhoo, John stepped forwards, and rounded the corner into the other room.

Immediately, he froze.

"rose?" he gasped

XXXXX

Within a lightless crypt, deep within a castle upon Skaia, a possessed girl was leading a young boy on an... _adventure_.

Chris was having a rather good time, all things considered. After receiving instructions from his mysterious friend, he had quickly scrambled to catch up to Rose and... well, he still wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to to, aside from keeping her from blowing up reality or something like that.

She actually wasn't that hard to find, a giant swirling vortex of thorns and tentacles and darkness was difficult to hide, especially from a clever master of detection such as himself. Also she travelled really slowly and had barely broke atmosphere when he left. That helped too.

He trailed her at a cautious distance for most of the journey (loosing her in an asteroid belt for an embarrassing few minutes), before she reached Skaia. He had to find her again on it's surface, but the giant vortex wasn't difficult to track, and he soon followed it to a cute white castle on a hill.

In the castle, he'd actually spent quite some time trying to hunt Rose down again (and pausing a few times to... acquire knightly relics and armour pieces), before actually finding her in a main hall of some kind.

Rose had apparently calmed down, and seemed to vaguely recognize him, so he had cautiously ventured closer, still wary of receiving any more 'zaps' from her dark majjyks. None came, and even though she now spoke in a black and eldritch tongue that Chris completely did not understand, she seemed to be coherent and in control of things again; so Chris was more than happy to just relegate command of the situation back to her, and just follow her around as she did whatever needed doing.

At the moment, she had led the way into some kind of crypts or something, and was occupied with a teleporter or something on the ground. Judging by her annoyed hisses and growls, she didn't seem to be too happy with it.

Happily standing a few paces behind her while she tinkered, Chris happily hummed to himself. After all, someone had to cover up all of the ghostly hissing and whispering that the sentient fog cloud that followed her was making.

The metal plate on the floor began to suddenly make clanking noises, and Rose stepped back from it, wiping her hands and making some sort of eldritch noises that could either be taken for satisfaction or frothing anger... one of the two, anyway. The context was a little unclear.

Chris smiled, they were gonna keep going.

Not that spending time in the Light-souls esque dungeons wasn't fun, but they were beginning to get stale. Besides, there wasn't anything to fight anyway.

Just as he was about to ask her what to do next, a light appeared at the other end of the room. Faint, but nonetheless there, a dim flickering glow of orange illuminated the surrounding walls.

Chris hurriedly stepped back, fumblingly dropping his metal visor into place with a 'clank', and shielding his eyes with a navy-blue robed sleeve. The sudden light burned...

Rose seemed entirely unaffected. Or maybe she was in agony. The look of utter contemptuous disinterest on her ashen-pale face was beyond Chris's dazzling skills to decipher.

The light grew ever brighter, and as his vision began to painfully compensate, Chris saw a blue-robed boy wearing a windsock on his head turn the corner, torch in hand.

Beneath his blocky glasses, the strange boy's eyes widened.

"rose?" he asked in disbelief.

This development actually got a rise out of his companion. Rose stiffened, and quietly muttered... well... something that sounded like a paper-shredder trying to process rusty nails. She raised her voice questioningly at the end though, so Chris figured she was asking something like "strange boy's name?" or something.

Seemingly not seeing him (Chris was very tactfully and cleverly positioned in the shadows, beyond the boy's torchlight), the other kid smiled in recognition and said,

"rose! what are you doing here? i was just trying to figure out how to get to you!"

Grinning even wider, he continued happily chatting, "it's actually a funny story, i just sent you that majjyk bomb you needed, but you're here now. heh heh heh, now we need to get it back all over again. sorry"

Rose seemed to smile faintly, but said nothing. At that, the boy's smile faded somewhat, and concern filled his features.

"...rose?" he ventured, "are you okay? what are you doing in this spooky place anyway?"

Once again, she replied in an echoing voice that sounded like a litter of kittens drowning in a vat of acid, at the end of a very long hallway. To his (lack of?) credit, the boy just seemed somewhat confused.

"what's going on here rose? do you need any help or anything, you look a little sick"

She just sighed, managing to do a rather good impression of a vacuum cleaner absorbing metal shavings in the process, and impatiently stamped her foot, pointing at the presumably fixed teleporter with a wand.

The strange boy shrugged, "i can't understand that rose, maybe if you tried speaking english"

Chris couldn't see her face, but judging by her subtle shifts in posture and how the torch began to flicker and the shadows grew longer; she was either contemplating raising a wand to her head and wallpapering the catacombs with the contents of her head in frustration, or setting the boy on fire with majjyks.

He needed to defuse the situation, before any evil majjyks began to be thrown around.

Stepping from the shadows, he hurriedly announced, "errr,ithink shewants togointo theteleporter padthingy"

The strange kid nearly leapt out of his skin at his sudden appearance out of the darkness.

Realizing his... blunder, Chris raised his hands plaintively whilst also raising his visor, hoping fervently that this windsock hatted character didn't decide to club him with that big hammer he had.

"whoa,itsokayit'sokay!" he called, "ima...companion torosehere, we'reallfriends here,everything's okay,icomein peace!"

He lowered his hammer slightly, staring at Chris in bewilderment...

"who... who are you?" He finally stammered,

Gauntleted hand outstretched, Chris stepped forwards, "im chris!" he proclaimed,

The boy hesitantly took the offered hand and shook it. "err... what are you doing here though," he puzzled, somewhat mollifying his concerns about Chris, "in fact, how did you even get here? dave and jade were the only other people here besides me and rose. what's even going on here?" he continued,

Chris shrugged, "well,we camethrough atwistydoor orsomethinglike that...andihave noidea what'sgoing on.i'vejust followed rosetheentire time,she'ssmart"

"so you've already met rose? do you know what's going on with her?" he asked, showing concern again for her... strange condition

Frowning, Chris thought about it for a moment, before replying, "well...ithinkshe's possessed...maybe?ithink"

"possessed?!" The boy exclaimed, "how? by what?"

Chris shrugged again, "iguess bysomekind of darkmajjyks orsomething, im nottoo sure"

The new boy was about to continue the line of questioning, but Rose stepped between them, roughly grabbed both their arms, (Causing Chris to yelp a tad bit as his clothing was slightly singed and his arm felt like it was on fire) and dragged them to the metal pad, grumbling impatiently.

She thrust them both upon the metal disk, there was a blinding flash, and Chris found himself standing beside the boy, in a different chamber. For starters, it was rather well-lit, causing him to painfully blink yet more spots out of his vision. Shaking his head lightly, Chris glanced around, idly inspecting his surroundings.

High, vaulted ceilings stretched out a few dozen feet above them, while a great staircase swept upwards before them, leading to some higher level of the fortress. Stone columns rose along the sides of the ascent, supporting the heavy weight of the ceiling. Dozens of torches burned quietly in little wall alcoves along the stairs.

Beside him, the strange boy was looking up the length of the stairs, quietly wondering, "what does rose even want from this place?"

Chris shrugged, "ijust follow heraround. likechester says,imnot paidtothink..." trailing off for a moment, he added, "wait...hedosen'tpay me..."

Seemingly realizing something, the other boy turned to face him, smiling genialy, and held out a hand, "gosh, i just realized," he said, "i haven't introduced myself. im john, john egbert"

Chris took his hand and shook it, trying to keep a straight face and replying, "it'sniceto meetyou johnjohn egbert, i'mchris baxter"

To his immense pleasant surprise, the joke didn't actually confuse or annoy John. The other boy simply looked at him in confusion for the briefest of moments, before a look of realization appeared across his face and he grinned.

"how did you say you got here again, chris?"

Thoughtfully pausing for a moment, Chris began to give a thoughtful and clearly brilliant reply, but that was interrupted by one more white flash that heralded Rose's arrival.

Immediately, the shadows in the room grew deeper and blacker, as all the torches instantly flickered and died. John flinched as the one he was holding flared, sputtered, and faded. Dropping the burnt and useless stick, he looked to rose,

"now what?" John asked, "what are you even doing here rose? what's going on"

Knowing by now that her replies were incomprehensible gibberish that hurt the ears of mortals, Rose kept silent, simply gesturing up the stairs with a drawn wand. Not really checking if either of them were following, she began to ascend the stone incline, shadowy fog trailing behind her like some evil, ethereal robe.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Chris followed and John did as well. As they walked, Chris resumed his interrupted explanation, gesturing enthusiastically as he did so,

"so,iguess fromwhat chesterandevan havesaid,we'refrom like, anothersession orsomething, and it'sacomplete accidentthat we'rehere."

John frowned slightly, "evan and chester? you're not alone here?"

He smiled, "nope,ihaven't met upwith anyofthem yet,buti knowthey're both inthesession somewheretoo!"

John nodded, "well, more help against jack is certainly welcome."

Eyeing his navy-blue robes, specifically the white spiral on his chest, John inquired, "are those... god-tier robes?"

Chris nodded happily, "yep! Imathief! of...something...voidithink?"

John thoughtfully nodded slightly, "neat! i'm an heir of breath... whatever that means"

For a few moments, the two drifted into companionable silence, while Chris glanced around at the surrounding walls, noting how the passage still curiously seemed to be illuminated through some manner of hidden windows, despite the lack of torches.

"say,whatwere youupto on thisplanet?" Chris suddenly asked, "asfar asi remember,we only wentto thebattlefield tofight theblackking inour session"

"oh, well, that's an easy one" John replied, "i was looking all over first my planet, now this one, for my dad. he's here somewhere i think. say, you haven't seen him, have you?"

Chris shook his head, "don'tthink so. Ihaven'tmet anyonebesides rose andyouso far"

John smiled, "ah well, no problem. i'm sure he's somewhere here, he's probably just doing dadly things somewhere."

Chris noted that Rose seemed to stiffen in... _anger(?)_ at that sentence, clenching her wands even tighter, and eyeing the door at the end of the passage with even greater hatred than she already was...

John's next comments shook him out of his observations however, and Chris returned to the conversation.

Nodding to Rose, John asked, "what happened to her, anyway? i was on her planet quite some time ago, and we talked somewhere around then as well, but that was a while ago... how did things get to... this point?"

"well,iwoke upfacefirst on herplanet a whileago..." Chris began, carefully omitting his... breaking and entering of her house, "thenwewent ontreasure hunts andadventures forawhile, we founda majjykwhiteball... alongtime passedwhileshe tinkeredwith it,thenwe went toahot redplanet, andshetinkered with itsomemore... theneverything wasall blackand tentacly andspooky"

John nodded, paying close attention, "huh, that ball, it sounds involved in her... grimdark and spooky state... what happened to it?" He asked, quickly explaining, "maybe if we can find it, we can reverse what happened to her"

Chris thought about it for a few moments, his feet continuing to robotically carry him upwards, before finally exclaiming, "ididn't thinkit wasimportant, so ileftit behind! wait...that's _not_ good..."

John's optimistically determined expression faded somewhat, but he quickly recovered, "don't worry, im sure we can find it again, once we figure out what rose wants, she seems really insistent"

Chris nodded his agreement, eager at the prospect of another thrilling treasure hunt. One that hopefully would keep sitting around and doing nothing to a minimum. John seemed like a far better companion for adventures than Rose, to be honest.

Then again, he figured that Chester would get along swimmingly with her. Thinking back to his friend's penchant for burying himself in a book or laptop and pointedly ignoring everyone around him, Chris concluded that Chester would definitely not mind doing stuff with the smart girl... Well, they might also annoy each-other even more than Chester and Evan did each-other... which was a distinct possibility, now that he thought about it.

His further planning of their next great adventure was cut short when they finally reached the summit of the stairwell, a small circular landing, draped with purple banners and holding a single, oversized door.

He'd also noticed that Rose was again trying to communicate with John in the meanwhile, leading to an overjoyed exclamation from the other boy,

"rose! you think my dad is here?! Really!?"

Nearly bouncing in place, John seemed pretty happy about that. Chris had never had a 'dad', so he wouldn't really know. Although, Evan seemed pretty happy with having a dad... hmmm... maybe he should steal a dad at some point. They seemed to get rather positive reviews all across the board.

Neither he nor John noticed the look of annoyed anger that flashed across Rose's ashen face before she buried it in a facepalm. Both wands drawn, she unceremoniously slammed the door open, and stepped beyond.

John and Chris followed, weapons captchalogued. After all, they hadn't seen hide nor hair of any enemies for hours. Everything was fine... right?

Stepping through the stony threshold, Chris was immediately buffeted by strong winds, fat, oily, raindrops, and crushing feelings of hatred, despair, and misery. All in all, it was kinda like living under the overpass, just with less gunshots and police sirens.

Walking out further, he found himself on a stone balcony that extended from one of the central keep's tiled roofs. Elegant yet subtly carved rails enclosed the open platform, while several pillars held the higher parts of the keep suspended above them.

There was also a quite fancy dining table in the centre of the balcony, two chairs pulled up, and an elaborate luncheon for two set up. Moving closer to pocket the silverware out of sheer habit than anything else, Chris made another discovery, at about the same time as John did.

There were two dead bodies collapsed around the table.

One was a rather fancy-looking rich lady, clad in a flowing blood-splattered pink scarf and a snow-white dresscoat. She reminded him of his brother in some way... maybe it was the full bottle's worth of wine that had been spilled all over her dress, and the wine glass she still held, even in death. The other was a paragon of dadlyness. Clad in white dress pants and a perfectly ironed and pressed shirt, along with a classy hat and clearly adult pipe, the dead fellow radiated adult wisdom and fatherness.

Chris froze in shocked surprise. Beside him, John also froze, before letting out a heart-wrenching cry and rushing forwards to the dead man's side.

Cradling the fellow in his lap, John hugged the body tightly, softly murmuring "dad..." over and over, along with other stuff Chris couldn't quite make out. Feeling rather awkward, he quietly left John alone, and went to the edge of the platform.

He also noticed Rose, silently staring at the dead woman, wands glowing and trembling slightly in her clenched fists.

The rain began to pound harder against the platform, while the winds howled furiously against the castle, several colourful pendants outright being ripped from their mounts, swept away into the churning storm.

John was softly crying at that point, holding what was presumably his father's body as tightly as he could. Rose had knelt, closed the woman's eyes in a brief moment of tranquil serenity, before rising to her feet, murder flashing in her eyes, and turned her gaze to the sky expectantly.

Chris was trembling a little bit too, trying his best to avoid the gruesome sight before him. He basically ended up just turning around and facing the wall, paying exacting attention to the cracks in the bricks and the mortar, trying to ignore John's muffled sobs as best he could.

Suddenly, a green flash lit up the balcony...

Chris was still trying to ignore whatever was going on behind him. It was only when he heard John's gasp, and Rose growl in a manner resembling a chainsaw, did he whirl around.

Just there, at the edge of the balcony floated a... dog...bird...chessguy?

Chris didn't really know what was going on.

Although, judging by how his black sword was dripping with freshly shed blood... and by how Rose looked ready to launch herself at him immediately, and how John, the happy and calm fellow looked murderous, colourful war-hammer drawn... Chris supposed that perhaps, this fellow might be the one responsible for all the bodies everywhere.

For the briefest of moments, the four all looked at each other. Rose glowering with incandescent fury, John frightened and vengeful and confused, Chris mostly just confused, and the black chess-dog hatefully glaring back at them all.

Then, with another green flash, the hesitant standoff was broken.

Rose stood immobile, scanning her surroundings with cautious rage. John looked devastated and confused, shakily holding the hammer outwards, trying to watch his surroundings also...

Half a heartbeat later, the dog's black sword erupted from his chest unceremoniously, as the strange being materialized behind John, cloaked in shimmering green light.

Pushing him off it's sword, the dog was able to free it's weapon just in time to evade a blast of dark energy from Rose. With an earthshaking guttural roar that froze Chris in place, she launched herself at the enemy, beams of black majjyks firing from her wands, and a veritable forest of coiled tentacles, thorns, and smoke forming around her.

When she collided with the chess-dog, black sword clashing against even blacker wands and majjyks, was when Chris found himself galvanized out of his stupor. He didn't know who or what this guy was, but he had... he'd killed John... oh... oh gog.

For a moment, Chris just kinda lost himself to blind instinct. The next thing he knew, he was somewhat above and behind the winged murderer, thrusting downwards, long-sword already uncaptchalogued.

Before he could even realize what was going on, there was a flash of light, the enemy wasn't in front of him anymore, and then there was a sword sprouting from his chest.

Huh.

For whatever reason, it didn't hurt. He felt kinda cold.

The sword was sharply withdrawn, yet, there was no blood. There was still no pain. Before him, Rose had halted her aggressive assault for a moment, seemingly confused and taken aback. Behind him, it seemed like the killer had done the same.

What was going on?

Raising a shaky hand to his face, Chris gasped in realization. In hindsight, he should have figured it out sooner. His hand was blurry and transparent. He'd phased out again.

Huh. He'd actually forgotten he could do that.

Reacting as fast as he could, Chris whirled around, swinging his sword in an arc behind him. If he phased back in... right about... now!

He didn't phase back in. His sword uselessly passed through the foe's confused form.

That little show was enough to clue the winged monster before him as-to what was going on. Putting a few more experimental stabs to the incorporeal Chris, mostly for the sake of posturing than anything else, the canine-faced killer huffed in annoyance, and vanished in a sudden flare of green.

Chris hung there, cold, ashamed, and fearful for a few moments. He could have sworn that, for an instant, he recognized something about his enemy. Something in his eyes...

Whatever thoughts he may have held were cancelled when a furious melee erupted behind him. As he turned, a great blast of violet rocked past him, striking one of the great white towers and utterly sweeping away it's lower levels, sending it hurtling towards the ground in an avalanche of stone.

The winged killer had advanced on Rose, and the two were locked in a furious battle. His wild, furious barrage of cuts and stabs were parried, absorbed and deflected by a forest of tentacles and strange, ghostly shapes that surrounded Rose. Her own assault of blasts of haunting light, and quick wand thrusts simply passed through her foe like he wasn't even there, a green flicker passing through his form every time she struck.

The stalemate continued for a few brief moments of aggressive combat, before Rose released a ghastly roar, the shadows around her deepening and coalescing into a thick cloud. Before either Chris or her opponent could even react, she rushed forwards with supernatural speed, striking her unprepared foe with the fury of a speeding freight-train. Her momentum carried them both off the battlements, and into the valley below.

Concerned and slightly guilty for his hesitation, Chris threw himself from the walls, following their grappling decent. He was still a translucent ghost, so he couldn't help much, but he'd deal with that later.

The falling pair landed with a great force, throwing a plume of dirt and shattered rock into the air. The inky rain all around them intensified even further, forming a great thunderstorm that lit up the blacker than night skies with flashes of violet lightning. The deafening orchestra of thunder washed over the valley, as Rose and her winged foe raised themselves from the ground, and rushed at each other again.

Carefully lowering himself to the ground, Chris closed his eyes, and concentrated with all his might. He couldn't help Rose if he couldn't interact with anything physical.

This time, the familiar feeling of warmth as he phased back in never came. Instead, a deep, piercing cold hit him like a wave, chilling him to his bones. Opening his eyes with a shiver, Chris could immediately tell that his body wasn't shimmery anymore. Great black drops of... something began to splatter over his helmet and shoulder guards, covering him with inky residue.

Still, he'd done it. Now, to help Rose.

Eying the incomprehensible swirl of tentacles, and blades and violet light cautiously, Chris ventured closer, sword arm shakily outstretched. At this point, her opponent seemed to have completely foregone his cheating advantage of teleportation, or whatever the green thing was.

Both of them were recklessly assaulting each other with a torrent of attacks, neither caring in any way for any harm that came to them. Both of their eyes flashed with murderous hate.

As Chris looked for an opening, trying to slowly circle behind the winged-dog-man, Rose thrust both of her wands forward at once. A blinding beam of energy illuminated the entire valley, chasing away all of the darkness, if only for a moment.

Chris missed what happened next. There were guttural roars of pain, both from Rose and her foe. There was more combat, the sound of sword striking ghostly tendrils, a wet fleshy sound, and then his vision cleared.

Her foe had stepped closer to Rose, taking a lance of light through the chest for his troubles, but getting past her forest of defensive thorns in the process. With his free hand, he had struck her in the face, sending her to the ground.

Now, heavily bleeding crimson blood from a gaping hole in his chest, the winged monster stood over a fallen Rose, sword raised for a death blow. Chris's eyes widened. This was it. He had a singular moment to do something. Only one chance to get this right.

As the sword descended, Chris flew forwards, faster than he ever had before.

Getting closer and closer to the point of no return with every heartbeat, Chris swung his sword with all his strength, closed his eyes reflexively, and hoped for the best. Failure was unacceptable.

There was a sudden 'clang', and his arms felt a numbing jolt go through them as his sword hit something hard, and bounced back. It took all his strength to even keep a grip on it.

Opening his eyes, he dropped to the ground.

Well, he'd parried the downwards stab. That was something.

He was roughly standing somewhere in-between Rose and her assailant.

That was all he could notice before the enraged being before him descended upon him with a furious hail of blows, wings splayed out behind him like some dark angel of death.

Chris fancied himself a cool swordfigher. He'd practised in his room with an imaginary sword, and he watched all of the major historical sword-fighting channels on the Crockerweb. The first blow nearly batted his sword away like a toy. He parried the second with jelly-like arms, with not a second to spare. The third and fourth came so fast they seemed to arrive at the same time. Somehow he survived. The fifth hit his sword so hard he whimpered as his arms felt like they were broken again. The sixth, seventh, and eighth blows all hit in the same place, Chris being so weak that he could only manage to hold his sword up in a feeble display of defiance. Each hit like a sledgehammer, battering his shaking blade lower and lower, before the ninth battered it effortlessly out of his grip, sending an agonizing pain through most of the fingers on his left hand in the process. The entire process took less than seven seconds.

Stepping forwards with contemptuous leisure, his wolf-like foe suddenly thrust his black sword forwards, straight through Chris's visor with pinpoint control and accuracy. Chris would have yelped and flinched, but his body was on fire. His hand was utterly numb. He couldn't even move at that point.

Ghostly and once again incorporeal, he sunk to his knees, ignoring the lethal blow that both of them knew wouldn't hurt him.

He was too tired to even feel anything at his failure. He couldn't save Rose. He couldn't save anyone. Well, except for himself. But that wasn't even his own accomplishment, was it?

The winged wolf stepped forwards, perhaps trying to walk through the ghostly Chris, but he never got the chance. A rocket of violet fury and hate, Rose blasted _through_ Chris, sweeping into her foe with all the fury of a supernova. The intertwined pair would have rocketed across the entire valley... Except they didn't.

Glowing with incandescent fury, strange green energies pouring through his distorting form, sealing the gap in his chest in the process, the winged being met Rose's charge head on. Stopping it in place.

Initially, Chris had only the dimmest awareness of this; but as he floated there, in the cold void between worlds, he felt his energy and strength return. Slowly and meagerly, but enough to gain his notice.

Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, he managed to float a few dozen paces to his left, before phasing back in, falling on his side in exhaustion. Lying there, heaving and gasping like a fish, he dimly watched Rose confront the winged dog.

The both of them were black blurs, the swirl of battle mostly incomprehensible, save for the few blasts of violet that lit up the clouds shrouding Rose. The melee continued, whip-like tendrils coiling around Rose and striking at the dog, only to pass harmlessly through him.

For his part, her opponent still continued to try and break through her defences, oddly not teleporting anymore, for whatever reason.

As Chris's vision cleared, he could tell that Rose was beginning to slow down. She was visibly beat up and injured, perhaps only staying in the fight through ghostly majjyks and anger.

Grimly, her opponent, looked no worse for wear.

Grunting with exertion, body burning in protest, Chris shakily rose to his feet. He went to uncaptchalogue his sword, before remembering. It was somewhere over there, in the middle of the destructive duel...

His gaze then fell to his left hand. He couldn't see through his glove, but it was puffy. Really puffy. It felt like a solid chunk of ice. He couldn't move his fingers, or feel anything in his hand...

A flash of light drew his gaze up.

Rose's foe had perhaps grown tired of her stubborn defence of tendrils, or maybe had grown bored of trying to wear her down. With a green flash, he had appeared inside her cage of thorns and tendrils and smoke.

Chris couldn't see what happened, but their altercation was brief.

A sudden flash of violet lit up the black shroud of clouds. Then, a second one.

After that... nothing.

Moments later, the fog and clouds began to dissipate. The rain stopped. Weak rays of sunlight began to pierce the funeral shroud that covered the heavens with a sheet of inky blackness.

As her protective shield began to fade away, Chris rushed forwards, heedless of injuries, heart dropping. Rose lay crumpled on the ground at the killer's pawed feet, in an expanding pool of her own blood. The ashen pallor from her face was slowly fading as well, replaced by her normal pale face.

For once she didn't look like some terrifying, all-powerful, monstrous witch. Just a scared thirteen year old girl, in way over her head.

His fast advance turning into a desperate run, Chris moved towards her killer, scooping his discarded sword off the ground with his right hand. He didn't care about anything anymore. He was going to kill the winged monster if it was the last thing he did.

His opponent turned to face him non-nonchalantly, bloody sword held at his side limply, wings folded behind his back in a relaxed manner. Closing the last few feet, Chris wildly swung, his non-dominant hand making the gesture sloppy and uncontrolled.

The killer didn't even try to parry, he just did.

A few more blows fell, wild, clumsy, and all too easily avoided. The dog-man didn't even take the tiniest fraction of a step backwards under the underwhelming onslaught.

Drawing on whatever reserves he had left, Chris tried his best to harm his opponent with a few more cuts and thrusts, each slower than the last.

None even came close to connecting.

Then, Chris lunged onto his foe's sword. Passing through it _and_ his foe, he halted on the other side. As quickly as he could, Chris phased back in. A cry of annoyed fury came from behind him.

Sliding his slick blade out of his foe's back, and assuming the proper stance to try again, Chris smiled at his cleverness, having left his ethereal sword still in the dog's back when he passed out on the other side. He could do this. He couldn't be harmed, and his foe could... with some effort.

The enraged dog vanishing in a flash of light drew his attention back to the present.

Before he could even think, a rough hand clasped itself around his neck, and raised him off the ground with an ironclad grip.

Frozen with pain and fear and shock, he could only look forwards as he was slowly rotated around in the dog's grip, until they were face to scarred muzzle.

The dog's hateful gaze rooted Chris in place, the canine's orbs boring into his soul. Slowly, the dog analyzed him, perhaps realizing that direct application of brute force wasn't an option with this irritating boy. Experimentally, it grabbed his right arm with it's free hand.

Chris didn't instinctively phase out.

Pleased with itself, the dog bent his arm back, further and further. Chris tried to phase out. He tried with every fibre of his being, the pain was growing unbearable. There was nothing in the world he feared more in that moment than what would happen if his arm went back just a little more.

Nothing happened.

The dog read the look of fear and failure in his eyes and smiled murderously. With a single, sharp movement, it bent his arm back all the way. There was a sickening snap, and then Chris screamed.

He nearly blacked out from the pain.

Then, his chest registered an extremely alarming sensation. Something sharp, poking him in the centre of his body, slowly increasing in pressure with every moment.

Fighting impossible pain to crack his eyes open, Chris faintly saw a bloodstained sword being ever-so-slowly pushed into his god-tier robes. The canine pushed slightly harder, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

As the pressure continued to build, Chris desperately tried to phase out. Before, he'd always needed mental clarity, but that just wasn't an option here. His entire body was in agony, there was no hope of getting a 'clear and focused mind'.

Blinking back tears, he noticed something. The dog's muzzle was close now. Really close. He could feel it's hot breath through the grill of his helmet...

Acting with swift desperation, Chris pulled his head back, and then sharply slammed it into the dog's head.

It worked. In answer to all his incomprehensible hopes and prayers, it worked.

The impact was sudden and hard enough to phase him out.

He immediately dropped to a ghostly resting position, crying and panting and heaving. His arm hung uselessly at his side like a broken twig, the cool embrace of the ghostly 'other-place' taking away some of the pain.

The winged canine looked down on his shimmering form, partly disappointed, partly bored and annoyed. Chris looked up at him in fear, trembling like a leaf.

After a tense stare-down, the dog huffed and vanished in a flare of green. There was nothing left for it there.

Refusing to leave the comforting embrace of his cold resting place, Chris shivered and curled into a ball as best he could, crying softly.

Above, the clouds fully parted. A warm and sunny day washed down upon Skaia...

XXXXX

Within a now familiar Green Mansion, in a very comfortable and pleasant sitting room, a lone god-tier clock finished it's ticking deliberations.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

...

The moon-dial upon the clock rested serenely in a thin sliver of silver, nestled between the rich purple of 'JUST', and the vibrant gold of 'HEROIC'...

XXXXX

Upon the battlefield, within a devastated castle, a blue body began to glow with a faint golden light...


	41. Act II: Intermission 2: Swallow's Flight

_**Salutations all! I have returned, and it hasn't even been a month yet! ...As far as I know, It's really late, don't quote me on it. Anyway, this is a rather short one, focusing on everyone's... not well known or remembered robot companion from Con-Air. The next chapter will also be shortish, but have a smorgasbord of brief snippets about everyone from Evan and Dave, the dynamic duo; to the trolls in their improvised hospital; to maybe Jade and Chester; and... anything else that's evading my thoughts right now.**_

 _ **Anywho, thank you all so much for your support, please review, and I own nothing save the Oc's, the Camper, and... Several carapacians and a spaceship now, I guess.**_

Above the gentle checkered continents and blue skies of Skaia, a tiny purple arrowhead accelerated away from the planet. With clockwork precision, the Dersite frigate quickly left atmosphere, it's softly flickering blue engines pushing it deep into the black void of space.

Aboard the ship, inside a small command centre, lying flush against the violet upper hull, a small carapacian in a commander's chair sighed in relief. Another uneventful takeoff.

This tiny Dersite captain was known as the **Sallow Smuggler** , the... proud? owner and operator of the decommissioned light frigate formerly known as the RDS_122. Now, it went by a more... colourful name.

Upon it's rough, angular flanks, nameplates emblazoned with blocky silver script read, " **The Monochrome Swallow** "

The name had been... an interesting story, to say the least. Involving a particularly seedy refuelling station, half a platoon of drunk soldiers, a raiding pirate fleet, and a merchant of exotic birds.

Most of his newer crew members, grunts and labourers toiling in the ship's depths didn't get the name, or really even care, but the Smuggler Captain had little interest in their opinions. The few members of his founding crew that had stayed with him throughout the centuries got it, and that was enough for him.

Pulling himself out of fond reminiscence, he cast a wary eye over his bridge crew. At the front control station, the Haunted Helmsman sharply and competently preformed his duties, easing their ship forwards with experienced ease. Beside him at the monitoring station, the Battered Bosun watched over the monitors and valves and displays with a steely eye, honed through nearly four centuries of practice.

Elsewhere in the small room, the Sanguine Technician held a silent vigil by the communications equipment while the Blinded Commodore sat beside him quietly, intently listening through his thick bandages for any passing ships through a small pair of headphones.

The Sallow Smuggler smiled faintly, just for a moment. He wasn't quite sure what manner of suicidal madness had possessed him when the blue noble invaded his ship, and essentially conscripted him into the resistance effort against the sovereign slayer. He supposed that disagreement wasn't really an option when faced with someone who could peel the crust off a planet like it was a yellowfruit.

Though... self-preservation wasn't the only reason he agreed to co-operate, if he was being perfectly candid with himself. After all, what else were they doing in orbit above a war-zone like Skaia, if not something extremely stupid?

He had heard of the Warweary Villein's rebellion against the twin monarchies; after all, who hadn't?

Despite the long-forgotten optimistic child within him cheering at such an opportunity; to seize freedom, to make a better world; he knew that acting rashly, recklessly rushing to the planet as so many others in their conscripted civilian vessels had done, was foolish.

He and his crew, after much deliberation, had decided to stock up on enough supplies to fight a guerrilla war for decades, and set off to the planet, ostensibly to support the vastly outnumbered, but not outgunned Dersite fleet elements in high-orbit.

They would deliberately take their time, and loiter at the very edge of the gravity well, trying to get a general understanding of where things stood.

If the rebels had mostly won, they would give them a... discrete donation, before leaving the system. Sympathetic or not, drawing attention to one's self was quite foolish. If the rebels had been put down, they would simply cut most of their running lights and power, and just ghost out of the system, pretending they had never even been there.

A slight shudder of the dorsal steering thrusters brought him back to reality for a moment. Satisfied that all was well, he returned to his musings.

Their arrival had been... uneventful, which was always a good thing. The rebels had mostly won, the vast firepower disparity between the few royalist cruisers and the massive fleet of press-ganged civilian ships had been overcome with the suicidal frenzy of the rebels. Mostly crewed by the poorest dregs of Dersite society, the far smaller ships had resorted to suicidal ramming actions against the larger behemoths of the royal navy.

Their casualties were staggeringly heavy... but the tactic had worked.

Shuddering, he remembered watching in horror as the cluster of tightly packed freighters and merchantmen reached the royalist formation. One of the leading heavy cruisers had it's bridge outright sheared off by a massive fuel carrying fleet-tender, which erupted into a blinding ball of flame moments later, completely consuming the two ships.

The cruisers had scored many kills, effortlessly carving the lighter ships apart with their massive energy projectors, but the resolve of the long-oppressed citizenry was unbreakable. One by one, the capital ships were brought down through sheer numbers.

Two had outright broken formation and stricken their colours, announcing on an open frequency that their officers were dead, and that the crews had joined the revolt.

With the rebels holding uncontested orbital superiority, the Smuggler had given the helmsman permission to head planetside, landing at a sizable Prospitian stronghold that had been converted to a rebel fortress.

Meanwhile on the ground nearby, a vast host of carapacians, Prospitian and Dersite alike marched against the black king, led by a simple farmer that just wished for an end to bloodshed.

...It really was impressive, but not surprising how quickly and how spectacularly everything went wrong.

Apparently, the head arch-agent, Jack Noir, had murdered the Black Queen, and taken whatever majjyk doodad she had used to be all-powerful. He had then travelled to the battlefield in order to finish his slaughter of the Dersite monarchy.

Arriving at the Black King's location at approximately the same time as the rebel army, the sovereign slayer found himself placed by pure coincidence, in the perfect spot to metaphorically _and_ literally, decapitate both factions. The bloodbath that followed could hardly be called a battle by any stretch of the imagination. The frantic screaming over the radio told a chilling story of how the checkered ground had run completely red, how the bodies of their own had formed hills and mountains of the slain, and of how the fearsome dark monarch had been felled with a single savage blow.

The leader of the revolution was missing, likely dead, and all of the other generals and officers that had marshalled his troops had died with his army. The monarchy _and_ the revolution, had both died in a few bloody minutes.

By dint of being the only one left standing, Jack Noir became the de-facto ruler of Derse, though he never actually got to the whole, 'ruling' bit. That was managed for him by one of his former colleagues, the Draconian Dignitary, the only one out of Jack's circle of professional acquaintances that had the brains and the ability to actually step up and rule.

The sovereign slayer had meanwhile entertained himself with travelling across the medium and indiscriminately murdering things.

Upon hearing the frantic cries and death screams over their radio, over which they were anxiously listening to a play-by-play of the triumphant rebel march, the entire bridge-crew had unanimously decided to immediately stop their refuelling procedure, close all external access points, and get the heck off the planet as fast as their engines would carry them. It seemed that a new _...er_ regime change had occurred, and they had just overplayed their hand and backed a losing muscle-beast.

Fortunately they hadn't done very much, and they were exceedingly careful to keep their involvement quiet, discreet, and minimal. If they could have gotten to one of their hidden supply caches in the asteroid rings surrounding the edges of the medium, they could have easily powered down and laid low for a few years, while things settled down...

However, thanks to the machinations of a certain Blue-robed noble and his accompanying entourage, that was no longer a possibility.

When the noble had pulled their ship back to the surface of the planet, rendering the best efforts of their straining engines utterly impotent, the smuggler was certain that they were all going to die.

Except... they didn't.

To be honest, he actually found himself nodding quietly at the thought, moderately surprised that he hadn't realized that perhaps, like the rest of the firmly crown controlled news outlets upon Derse, the **Fashionable Cavalier's** description of the nobles as violent, murderous, soul drinking, infant eating, eldritch abominations... was rather far from the truth.

...What could he say, the Draconian Dignitary ran an admirably tight ship in his personal newspaper. The Cavalier had long held itself above the mere, 'gutter press'. Somehow, it had actually lured him into thinking it's elegant and clever articles might have actually had a shred of honest reporting in them.

...He still didn't intend to cancel his subscription. Propaganda machine or not, he'd sooner die than stoop to reading something spawned in the lightless gutters of the purple planet. Thinking of the irrational, sloppily printed mess that was pretty much every issue of Wolf news, the Sallow Smuggler shuddered.

Then again, it's competition of Pen and Candle papers wasn't much better. One safely criticized government approved targets, the other worshipped the ground the queen trod upon. At least the Dignitary had the pride to force his writers to at least _pretend_ to be somewhat complex and intelligent.

...Then there was the contraband garbage that Prospit occasionally smuggled over, in some half-baked attempt to undermine their society or something...

On sheer principle, he had adamantly refused to even contemplate allowing that trash in his cargo holds.

His pleasant yet wary mood soured by the thought of that pompous gold ball, the Smuggler turned his gaze back to the bridge. The monitors were all clear enough, his crew held an air of relaxed nonchalant alertness, his... uninvited guests were making themselves comfortable in some of the empty seats...

Well, that odd short Dersite was. The robot with the big ears just stood there motionlessly, staring through the small bridge windows at the lightless expanse stretching out before them like an unlucky smuggler upon an Archagent's interrogation table.

Adjusting his hat ever-so minutely, he considered the unwelcome house guests that loitered upon his bridge. Even then, he still had half a mind to just space them and pretend the entire fiasco upon Skaia never happened. The 'hide and lay low' plan still seemed like his best option, yet due to their disruption, it now hung just out of reach.

Despite that, he was only a supporter of Jack's new regime so long as there was a metaphorical (and literal) blade at his throat. To be honest, even the old ways sat just fine with him and most of his crew.

The long war against Prospit was a wonderful release valve for all of the... _ambitious and enthusiastic patriots_ of their lovely violet home. With their fleets constantly skirmishing across the entire system, and with hotheaded young Dersites rushing to their deaths, life was pretty good for the smart, the lazy and the cowardly. Without the war, some of those incorruptible paragons of patriotism might have gotten it into their little heads to try and purge all the criminals in their society, to bring the King's justice to all...

That just wouldn't have ended well for anyone.

With all eyes on Prospit, smuggling was a very safe venture. Well, so long as one knew his place, was smart about things, and never tried to get greedy and reach too far. He'd known far too many young smugglers that died trying to make 'that one big haul'.

There were old smugglers, and then there were ambitious smugglers. For the most part, the two were mutually exclusive. There was nothing ludicrously profitable or glamorous about smuggling crates of... _upgraded rations_ to nobility and upper ranking officers serving on distant battlefields, but it more than paid the bills, and most importantly, it was safe.

In fact, many of the Dersite captains that usually made a big show of capturing and executing gun-runners and... ' _importers of Prospitian wares_ ', were some of his biggest clients. Some flat out never even realized that all of the expensive chilled drinks and fine hoofbeast meats that he covertly sold them were considered 'controlled goods' under the wartime rationing policies.

The old days were quite nice for him and his, all things considered. Things were predictable, boring, and safe. Sure, many of the underclasses died as cannon-fodder on the front lines, but that's what they deserved for actually buying any of the stuff that the recruitment posters said.

Sure, there was widespread starvation on several separate occasions, but he made enough to look after all his crew, from himself to the lowliest of deckhands, so he didn't really care. The suffering of others just wasn't his problem. He had more than enough on his plate as it was.

Somewhat mournful of the good old days, when he was younger and sprier, when he still had both eyes, he couldn't help but feel a trickle of anxiety towards the future. Uncertainty was actually something that he hadn't experienced since his early youth. Once he'd gotten settled, and everything became a safe routine, he'd expected to spend his final centuries enjoying quiet, relatively simple work, followed by some rest and relaxation, and quiet and calm expiration.

Now though... he felt like a young carapacian again, tiny, powerless, not knowing what the future held... and he wasn't feeling like that was a good thing.

Perhaps, if he was younger, he would have jumped at such an opportunity; a time of change and progress, the perfect opportunity to carve out a space for himself in the world. Fondly gazing over his crew, gaze lingering on the Commodore's bandaged eyes, the way that the Bosun's arm still moved slowly and creakily, even after all these years... Time had not been kind to any of them.

The Smuggler idly toyed with the strap on his eyepatch, the thin strap of cloth still irritating his carapace, no mater how many different fabrics he'd tried to fashion it from.

Indeed, none of them were in very good shape these days.

Movement from his right drew his notice.

The short Dersite kept fidgeting in his seat.

The Smuggler didn't like the look of the little fellow. He didn't quite know why. Just... something about that little fellow was... somehow familiar. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it. It might have been the tattered remnants of that silly jester's uniform that the Black Queen had recently put into decree. Such uniforms were associated with the palace more often than not, so maybe that was it.

The Smuggler allowed himself a faint nervous smile. Sure, this Dersite might be _from_ the palace, but due to his diminutive stature and clearly... _sub-par_ intellect, he was obviously just a lower class servant or cleaner. Nothing to worry about there.

A few more moments passed, the ship continuing to cut swiftly through the void, the eerie feeling still not leaving him. There was just something vaguely troubling about his passenger.

...He still couldn't put a finger on it. Shrugging, he simply assumed that the small fellow must just have a passing resemblance to one of his more... _dangerous_ former acquaintances, like the exceedingly corrupt but also ruthlessly murderous _**Tariff Arbitrato**_ r, or the famously sadistic former head arch-agent, the _ **Jovial Barrister**_.

Thinking of that last one, the Captain involuntarily shivered. Though he was many centuries dead at this point, a perfect example of how even those in lofty positions in court were still not exempt from the Queen's capricious and violent whims, the Barrister still haunted his nightmares on especially bad nights, when he'd partaken in too much strong drink.

If anything, the Barrister terrified him more than the Sovereign Slayer did. Jack Noir was known as an unpredictable and easily bored murderer with very simple goals and desires. He could be avoided with relative degrees of safety, and even in his clutches, one could expect a relatively fast death.

The Barrister though... took great pleasure in personally conducting... _interrogations_ of criminals, drawing out their tortured agony as long as possible. Once, he'd even removed someone's entire carapace... Or, so the rumours went. To be honest, the Captain didn't find that one too unlikely to have actually happened.

In those days, the palace prisons were simultaneously full to bursting, and going through prisoners faster than the Monochrome Swallow guzzled fuel. On the... not too rare occasions that no criminals remained in the dungeons... Well, perhaps some of the cleaning staff looked rather suspicious, or maybe anyone unfortunate enough to be loitering near the palace at the moment seemed like a good suspect for some imagined crime.

At the time, a popular idiom making the rounds in the criminal underworld was 'If the Barrister's agents find you... throw yourself onto their swords... it'll be less painful'.

The Smuggler shook his head, rubbing his small eye with a rough hand. For whatever reason, it seemed like he was turning rather sentimental in his old age. Such monsters as the Barrister were long since dead, it was just no good to linger on their foul memories.

Trying to conceal his momentary distraction from his bridge-crew, he turned his gaze to the instrument panel on his seats' left armrest.

Though they were still vastly out of visual range from the golden planet of clouds and water, it could be clearly seen upon their navigational equipment. The rather outdated monitor at his side showed only a few hundred thousand units until arrival. Their ship was built for speed. It wouldn't be long now. Soon, he could dump his unwelcome guests, and make for the asteroid belts.

XXXXX

Meanwhile, upon the command bridge of a swift smuggler's ship, siting beside a very adorable furry robot, the Courtyard Droll was feeling rather excited with himself.

The Draconian Dignitary had given him an extra important top secret mission... that he couldn't actually remember at the moment. Oh well, it probably wasn't anything important.

The diminutive little Dersite agent had decided upon a new mission though, all by himself even. The little robot animal had a super important job that it was doing, carrying a secret bomb to... well, he wasn't quite sure. Wherever the spiky ball was going though, it certainly was bad news. Jack Noir was never fond of bad news.

In that moment, the Droll had decided to follow the robot and... somehow get the bomb away from it, and deliver it to Jack. He was still pondering the particulars of such an action, but suffice it to say, that the rewards would be vast. Jack might even reinstate the silly hat policy of the old regime.

The Droll liked silly hats.

Glancing around the really cool bridge of the spaceship, he sighed wistfully. He liked spaceships. Maybe when everything was done Jack would let him have one. The Droll briefly imagined himself as a fancy swashbuckling captain, finding buried treasure, making narrow escapes and having cool adventures.

So lost was he in his fantasies of having a dashing eye-patch like the captain that was playing host to them, that the Courtyard Droll failed to notice that a tiny golden ball had begun to grow in the windows before them. They had arrived.

Shaking his head and trying to concentrate, he turned his gaze back to his robot companion. It was still holding the strange leathery, brown, bomb container in it's fuzzy paws. They were almost out of time, how was he going to separate the... wallet? ... _container._ From the robot?

...

There didn't really seem any visible way to do so at the moment. Well, unless he felt like trying to take it from the robot in the middle of a crowded room. Besides, he'd seen what the furry creature had done to a wandering pack of goblins that tried to assail them upon the battlefield. Tiny as it was, the little robot could do some frightening work with just it's paws.

Perhaps brilliant and cunning trickery would be the best plan...

As he was lost in further ponderings, the small golden orb slowly grew on the windows before them...

XXXXX

This was it, the Sallow Smuggler sighed in relief. They were here.

All that remained was to cover the last smidgen of distance to the planet, stuff his guests into an escape pod, and leave them to their devices while he got the heck out of the line of fire. Weather they succeeded or failed was of no consequence to him.

Their nearest supply cache was about fifty million kilometres away, a straight and simple shot with their modified thrusters. They'd hide in the asteroid belt, perhaps even going so far as landing on one of the largest ones, and then covering the entire ship with a great grey tarp like they did in the golden days.

If there was one thing he could say about genuinely fearing for his life for the first time in... gosh, easily a century at the least, was that it brought the good times right back to memory. The first time he and the Bosun had executed that particular smuggler's trick must have been easily a hundred and fifty years ago. They'd been quite light on crew back then, it was just the two of them manning the entirety of the bridge alone.

Those days, spent in abject fear, hiding and evading the Barrister's roving patrol ships, were some of the most exhilarating and pulse pounding of his entire life. Though, to be honest, he much preferred the calm and quiet that had settled over the criminal world after the Arch-agent's death.

Hopefully the Sovereign Slayer would meet with a similar end soon enough. If not, well, they had enough canned rations at that one spot to last them all a century at least. Playing a hundred years worth of cards would be tooth-shatteringly boring, but it beat being dead by a hefty margin.

The golden planet began to loom closer and closer in the bridge windows, he was beginning to see pristine blue oceans and clusters of gold clouds. He hated it. It reminded him of Prospit.

The sooner they were done here, the better.

Tapping his armrest console, he called down to the security room. Though most of the crew in there were haplessly incompetent with their weapons, and couldn't fight off an enterprising group of pirate boarders if their lives depended on it, they were still quite useful for a variety of other tasks.

Such as standing behind him menacingly during negotiations, flexing their muscles and gesturing threateningly with their sawed off energy rifles. Or in this case, escorting two guests to the escape pods, stuffing them into one, shutting the door, and launching it into the planet.

A bored squeak replied that they were busy in a game of eighty-one pickup, and that the Brutish Bouncer was on a winning streak that they absolutely had to end.

...He paused a moment, before politely reminding them who signed their paychecks. (Not that he ever conducted any business that could leave a paper-trail. It was a figure of speech)

The voice on the other side acknowledged his wisdom, and said someone would be right up.

Ending the call, he leaned back in his command chair. It was good to be the boss.

A slight tremor in the ship's metal skeleton signified that they had entered the gravity well. Without even needing to be asked, the Helmsman skillfully brought the vessel to a slow and comfortable stop.

Perfect.

Now he just needed to wait on his...

The elevator doors at the end of the room opened with a hiss. A scraggly, yet moderately well uniformed carapacian of middling height stepped out, holding an energy gun with what could almost have been mistaken for genuine training of any kind.

The Captain looked over to his guests, and squeaked to them that his hospitality was at an end, their goal was down there somewhere, and that they should get off his bridge already.

Thankfully, both the long-eared robot and it's diminutive Dersite companion understood, standing and walking to the elevator together. The guard herded them aboard with a mix of boredom and annoyance, and they were off into the bowels of the ship with a metallic hiss.

The smuggler leaned back in his chair once more. Everything was going according to plan, for once.

Again without needing instruction, the Bosun had pulled the security camera displays up on the main projector screen, so they could track their guests progress through the ship.

Idly watching their elevator descend to the lowest decks, the Captain again noted how handy his investment in fixed recording equipment was. If he'd ever needed to fight boarders, he supposed that it could have provided an unbeatable advantage there, but he was just not stupid enough to run into pirate vessels so the advantage was moot. What the cameras did provide, was a way to drastically cut down on the amount of stealing from the cargo bays that went on.

Any intelligent smuggler knew that there was no honour among thieves, and while minor thefts from his holds didn't really bother him, when thirtyish crew members were all habitually doing it, the cut into the profit was bothersomly large, to say the least.

The elevator finally arrived on the lowest deck in the ship, the shuttle bay, which was more along the lines of a rectangular hole in the ship's bottom than an actual deck. Most of the hangars just hugged around the edges of the hole, allowing shuttles and pods to just exit out the bottom of the ship in total safety whenever they needed to.

As he was idly watching their progress through the mostly empty deck, noting in annoyance how one of the shuttles seemed to have been improperly fastened to the deck, a green flash from the ever-populated crew quarters caught his eye.

What the heck was that?

Immediately the camera cut to black.

Before he could even figure out a coherent thought, the fire alarm began to blare, red flashing lights covering the bridge in an eerie red tint, while deafening wails from the siren filled the small space.

As his bridge-crew understandably nearly leapt out of their carapaces, before mechanically assuming firefighting positions, with the Bosun remotely sealing unnecessary bulkheads, and the Technician running to grab firefighting equipment from the emergency locker, the Smuggler simply sat in place.

Something didn't seem quite right about this...

Then, a green flash appeared on a dozen cameras at once, shutting them all down, the ship lurched suddenly, throwing the bridge-crew to the deck, while the deafening sound of shredded and tearing metal seemed to come from everywhere around them.

Still fixed upon the screen as the Monochrome Swallow shook and screeched around him, the Smuggler caught a glimpse of a black figure with wings like death himself, and his heart sank.

XXXXX

Within the small but densely packed hangar of the smuggling ship, a bunny robot and his small companion followed a bored security guard between several boxy grey shuttles.

The Courtyard Droll was growing rather worried. They were almost to the escape pods that would lead them to the surface, where a noble waited to retrieve the tumour bomb. He couldn't let that happen, but not only did he not want to fight the small robot, but there was also an armed guard accompanying them.

He'd wanted to find an opportunity to do something smart and clever and sneaky, but his window of time was rapidly shrinking. Just at the other end of the hangar, a row of a dozen circular hatches protruded from the wall.

Just as his worried tension grew unbearable, a catastrophic rumble reverberated throughout the ship, tossing them all to the deck like dolls.

Their accompanying guard seemed especially freaked out by this. Shakily rising, he squeaked at them to figure out the pods themselves, muttered something about it not being rocket science, and ran off back to the elevator in a panicked hurry. The Droll wanted to follow him, to be honest. He wasn't sure what was going on, but sticking with someone that had a gun seemed like a good plan.

The robot was having none of it, though. Despite his protestations, the small creature roughly grabbed his arm in a vice like grip, and dragged him towards the pods.

The ship shook again, harder and rougher, the screech of separating metal filling the air, but the small robot kept it's footing, inexorably making it's way to the pods as the ship groaned and screeched around them.

XXXXX

Upon the bridge, the Sallow Smuggler had stood from his chair, trembling like a leaf, concealed sidearm drawn, and was a heartbeat away from ordering total evacuation, intending to lead his bridge-crew to a special escape shuttle built into the rear of the bridge, when a green flash took away his vision and shook the room.

When his vision cleared, he saw Jack Noir, in all his horrifying winged splendour, standing in the centre of the bridge, bloodied sword leisurely held at his side.

Both he and his crew reacted with centuries of honed instincts.

As one, they raised their motley sidearms and frantically opened fire on the ghastly apparition.

None of them had any delusions of making it out alive.

XXXXX

Within the hangar, the robot hauled the Droll the last few paces to the pods. Stopping before the silvery cylinders that protruded from the wall, the robot approached an exposed panel and curtly entered instructions into it.

The ship shuddered again. Dull thuds of gun and energy weapon fire could be heard distantly. Ominously, they all faded away soon enough. The Droll looked around frantically in worry.

He had no idea what was going on, though he bet it was probably pirates. Or ninjas. One of the two. Even though it was always one of his many dreams to fight pirates in the cold and exciting depths of space, he wasn't looking forward to it now.

...Not that he was scared or anything, he just had a super important mission to do. Speaking of which, he glanced back up at the robot that held his arm. It was still at the panel. Typing away furiously.

Maybe if he could pick it's pocket or something?

...Yeah, that sounded good.

Wait... It didn't have pockets. He also couldn't see where the strange brown container even was. That certainly put a damper on things.

Just then, the pod's doors opened with a smooth metallic hiss. As the ship again violently shook, dislodging one of the shuttles from it's moorings and hurling it across the hangar, the robot thrust him unceremoniously into the pod where he fell flat on his face in the actually rather luxuriously furnished interior.

As the robot stepped closer to board as well, a green flash covered the interior of the hangar.

Acting swiftly, the robot whirled around so that it was protectively shielding the entrance to the pod with it's partly metallic body. It fumbled with something in-front of it for a moment, before half-turning, leaning into the pod where he lay sprawled, and grabbing his hands.

The Droll tried to squeak in confusion and protest but all his complaints fell silent when the robot thrust something small into his hands. It nodded to him curtly.

Spinning so quickly that he could barely follow it's movement, it then left the pod, and slammed it's fist on the outside wall. The doors sealed shut with an audible hiss.

Half a heartbeat later, the walls around him shuddered gently as air rushed past the pod. It slowly accelerated forwards, and soon left the ship behind.

Sitting there in the gently moving escape pod, frozen in shock and fear, the Courtyard Droll slowly opened his hands.

There, lay the odd brown tumour container.

XXXXX

As the pod behind him launched outwards into the depths of space, and the airlock doors sealed shut behind it, the robot bunny stared across the hangar at it's enemy.

Idly strolling forwards, black wings extended menacingly, sword drenched with blood, Jack Noir appeared to have all the time in the world. He didn't seem to have any urgency whatsoever about the contents of the escaping pod.

The bunny was counting on exactly that. Opening a hatch in it's chest, it quickly withdrew a miniature hammer, aimed, and threw it with computer driven precision.

Jack was rather confused when it missed him by a sizable margin.

The bunny was already moving when it hit a precariously perched maintenance lantern. The fact that said lantern was perched on shelving units directly above the crashed shuttle, was lost on everyone save the bunny. So was the fact that the shuttle was heavily leaking fuel...

The Sovereign Slayer had a moment to shield himself with a wing before the entire hangar erupted in a ball of fire.

Meanwhile, the bunny had thrown another hammer in the confusion.

This one happened to strike the general control panel for the escape pods at the exact moment when the bunny had thrown himself towards the doors of the closest one. Just as he neared the closing doors, the wave of fire swept over him, harshly launching the bunny into the wall.

An instant later, all the pod doors closed. With a hiss of compressed air, all the metallic cylinders slid outwards and out of the ship.

Shakily picking itself up, patting out a small bit of flickering fire that clung to it's cloth parts, the bunny frantically scanned the rest of the burning hangar for an alternate way out.

A chunk of shuttle seemed to have hit the Sovereign Slayer, but it would only serve to annoy and delay him for a few more moments. The bunny needed to act immediately.

Another quick glance confirmed that the other shuttles were either also burning, or heavily damaged by large chunks of shrapnel from the exploded shuttle. There were no other escape pods in the bay.

Moving quickly to a nearby maintenance door, the bunny ran from the hangar, planning to at least buy time to find an alternate way off the damaged ship. More thuds and distant explosions rocked the corridors as he ran through the hallways of the ship. He wasn't entirely certain if he was being pursued, but had no intentions of stopping to check.

Rounding a corner at high speed, the rabbit stopped. A dead end.

There was no way out.

In the distance, he heard a deafeningly loud roar, followed by a rapidly intensifying green light. The sound of tearing metal filled the air, as the walls around him seemed to come undone around him.

In the last possible seconds before the ship was obliterated by the unshackled fury of the green sun's power, another green flash appeared, this time originating around the bunny. His visual sensors failed.

XXXXX

In orbit above the Land of Light and Rain...

The bunny slowly rebooted it's visual sensors. Auditory sensors were detecting a strange rumbling noise, akin to a really fuel-inefficient engine. His internal gyroscopes were detecting that wherever he was, he was moving.

...That made no sense. His last recorded memories suggested that he had failed in his mission, and that he had been terminated. Unusual.

The re-calibration finished.

If the bunny was capable of emotion, it would have been rather surprised. It's surroundings had changed considerably, and moreover, it was still... 'alive', for lack of a better term.

Slowly, in mild disbelief, it observed it's new surroundings.

It was inside... a small... spaceship? It certainly didn't seem like one, or even appear airtight in any way shape or form, but the dingy and grimy window certainly showed the golden planet rapidly growing beneath them, so that eliminated any contrary arguments.

The bunny was sitting on a ripped fabric seat of some sort, that had been built into the thin metal walls. Some kind of dirty carpeting was on the ground. A few green metal boxes were stacked in one corner, along with a pile of high-calibre ammunition. Various cheaply wood-panelled drawers were built into the walls; odd colourful posters were plastered overtop of them.

The bunny slowly stood, acting with great caution in this foreign environment.

As far as he could tell, the ship was quite small, and was generally rectangular. To his left, the carpet led to some sort of room with a bed in it; his right, led through some manner of food preparation station, and ultimately into what he assumed would be the cockpit.

Turning right, the bunny waddled through the galley, noting idly that in the roof right above, was a circular hole connected to a weapons emplacement. A small set of rusty bars in the roof allowed access into the small opening.

Continuing past it, the bunny entered the control centre at the front of the ship, tensed for combat.

The cockpit was rather cramped, much like the rest of the ship. Two squat leather seats sat side-by-side, facing a wide stretching glass window that gave a sweeping view of the planet before them.

Oh, and the cockpit was completely empty. The entire ship seemed completely deserted.

The bunny whirled around, expecting an ambush from behind, but still nothing stirred. The ship genuinely seemed empty. But if that was the case, how did he possibly get on board.

Inspecting the cockpit again, the bunny noticed that the... circular steering device was carefully and precisely moving on it's own. A strange stick device in the floor was also moving occasionally. For all intents and purposes, this strange rust-heap seemed to be driving itself.

Thoughtfully pausing for a moment, the bunny gazed contemplatively at the approaching planet before him. To be honest, it really didn't matter how he survived. Given that he had, all that remained to be done was to travel to the planet as planned.

Taking a seat in the passenger's station, the bunny secured itself with a threadbare restraint belt. Confident in his safety for the given moment, the bunny cautiously opened it's chest hatch.

It slowly withdrew the white and black tumour bomb.

Hopefully, it's engineered distraction would delay the Sovereign Slayer until his mission was complete...

Gently, a Winnebago camper flew towards the surface of the golden planet below, almost imperceptible green embers trailing in it's wake.

 _ **A/N: And that's it folks. I really hope you all enjoyed. This would have been up earlier, but I had forgotten how I wanted to do the ending, and I had to do some hasty rewrites the next day. Disappointment was high, to say the least. Anyway, the next one will be out... well, no sooner than this one was, at least. Eventually. I have finals looming on the distant horizon, so probably after December. Maybe. Anyway, please let me know what you think about my take on Dersite culture, and have a great... really early morning, I guess.**_


	42. Act II: Chapter 14

_**A/N: Hello folks.**_

 _ **Wow, it's been a really long time. Basically, the past year has been a gigantic mess. Lots of things happened, most of them unpleasant to say the least, but now I think that I'm finally through the worst of it. Highlights include my laptop having a catastrophic failure while at Uni, so no posting of chapters was possible. Moreover, said laptop had a catastrophic crash again, far more recently. Messing with it's repairs was... not enjoyable.**_

 _ **Other than that, I've been dealing with pretty heavy writer's block. I still really want to continue this story, but I have no idea how things are going to go from here.**_

 _ **So, this is a small snippet of the next chapter, which is about 60% done, and has been so since somewhere in January. I wanted to get it done and put up, but since I can't realistically say when that will happen, I've decided to put this first little snippet up, mostly to let you all know that I'm still alive.**_

 _ **In regards to the helpfulCriticism fellow, I was going to answer all your stuff here, but it's late and I'm tired, but I just wanted to thank you for your support. To be honest, some of the things you pointed out were so blindingly obvious, that I smacked my head into a wall in shame for never actually realizing them. Anyway, since you're a guest, I can't actually message you, so if you want to send me a PM with your actuall account, so we could discuss some of those points, that would be great.**_

 _ **I would also like to thank everyone else, new and old, for all of their support. I do all this for you guys and gals.**_

 _ **Anyway, enjoy the snippet, the full chapter should be up... eventually.**_

* * *

Upon a Violet planet that hung serenely within a dense asteroid belt, two moons shackled to it's surface with great, heavy chains; a lone autocratic bureaucrat was hard at work.

Having... _liberated_ his new office from the dearly departed Black Queen, the Draconian Dignitary busied himself with the affairs of state. The tedious minutia of governance and administration was never something he especially enjoyed, yet he was always exceedingly skilled in such matters nonetheless.

At present, he was working through completing an edict that would finish mobilization of the Dersite home guard. However, sending them off world to crush all remaining Prospitian resistance was not his goal. His... boss? was attending to that.

Idly glancing out of a window to the planet surface far below, he could easily make out all of the fires and damaged property. The recent... _change in administration_ had not gone over well with the populace. Not that any of them actually liked the old windbag that had ruthlessly lorded over them since the beginning of time, they just took any excuse they could to riot and burn things.

Despite having received permission to open fire on any and all lawbreakers, the Authority Regulators down below in the planet's dark and murky streets were simply failing to restore order and obedience. It was abundantly clear that something more than a gaggle of mere parking citation dispensers was needed to sort out the nuisance.

With a curt yet elegant flourish, he signed his name at the bottom of the black crown stamped stationary, and rolled the document up with a single precise motion. He frowned as he fed the paper to the pneumatic tube on his desk. The stationary would need to be changed. Out with the old, in with the new, and all that. How decidedly bothersome.

Regardless, he briefly returned his gaze to the window and his thoughts to the anarchy in the lower levels of the planet-wide mega-city. The Boastful Autocrat and his cadre of officers, despite their insufferable company, would get the job done. Throwing improvised flammable bombs at hapless and inept Authority Regulators was far different than doing the same to a squad of ruthless Armscarapacians. Not that the soldiery was exceedingly competent, by any means; loyalty was not one of their strong points either. However, when it came to executing unarmed and untrained civilians, neither of the two would be particularly tested. This nuisance would be put down by the time he had his afternoon coffee.

Turning his gaze from the sad sight of the filthy and wretched city beneath him, the Dignitary regarded the microphone on his desk for a few moments. By this point, his secretaries would have transcribed and sent his orders via the wireless to the necessary army bases, and 'the troops' would be in the process of being shaken out of their beds by especially bored non-commissioned officers. The moment to deliver his speech was now.

He never particularly cared for public speaking, though he thoroughly understood it's power at manipulating the stupid underclasses to his will. Pressing the green button at it's base, he cleared his throat and, once the light on it's side turned green, he began.

All across the planet, carapacians paused in their illicit activities and looked up to various speakers in their immediate vicinity.

As ever, his speech was brief and to the point; it was also, however; elegant, erudite, and charming. With grace and curtness, he told the assembled populace in no uncertain terms that they must immediately return to their places of residence. The army was being deployed to 'restore order' and would eliminate anyone in violation of these commands on the spot. Also, most government run faculties would be in operation by the following morning. He sincerely apologized for any inconvenience. After all, the dark monarch's unexpected sudden death was most sudden and, of course, unfortunate, and the government needed time to reorganize itself.

Killing the live feed, he nodded to himself in satisfaction. The majority of wiser heads would heed his thinly veiled warnings and abandon their pursuits, while the stupider fools among the populace would continue to loot and burn... right until the soldiery reached them.

In any case, his stern dealings with the situation should have restored faith in the government among the majority of pragmatic thinkers, and otherwise concretely stated that this looting and burning was a one-time affair. No more such foolishness would be brooked on his watch. He didn't especially need the populace's love, however; he simply required their silent obedience.

As the Draconian Dignitary turned to the next item in his brand new 'to do' box, a summarized proposal for the new governmental budget for the foreseeable future, which promised to be as exciting as watching expired milk solidify, his ornate telephone rang. Hmmm...

Lightly pressing the earpiece to his head, the Dignitary curtly demanded what the caller wanted.

The unmistakable gruff breathing and growling on the other end elucidated him to the being on the other end. It was his boss. The current reigning ruler of Derse, and much of the medium, really; Jack Noir.

His boss asked if the rioters were still burning things.

He replied that it was being worked on. The problem would be eliminated shortly.

Jack asked if he should come over there.

The Dignitary steadfastly assured him that such an action would be detrimental to his goals. Being king of ashes would bore the Sovereign Slayer within an instant, after all.

A grumbling whine signalled Jack's reluctant cooperation.

The Dignitary then asked if Jack was staying out of trouble. After all, they couldn't afford any more over-excited destruction such as what happened on Prospit. They were here to rule, conquer, and subjugate; one couldn't do that when nothing was left alive.

Jack grumbled vague and non-committal statements.

The Dignitary knew this was the best he would get from his old partner, and moved on. How was the plundering and the killing going?

The Sovereign Slayer was rather pleased to explain how he had murdered his way through so many different things, including a sizable collection of nobles. Although, he added, there was a problem. A snag, if you will.

There was a girl.

The Dignitary demanded what this had to do with anything.

Jack informed him all about her, gushing about his wonderful, beloved, bestest master, before cursing vehemently, and presumably levelling a small mountain, judging by the noise.

The Dignitary diplomatically erased... whatever that was, from memory, and merely inquired as-to why she still lived, if her existence offended him so.

Jack replied that due to 'that stupid ring', he literally could not bring himself to do it. His mind did all sorts of strange things that must not be mentioned on pain of death when it came to her. Somecarapacian else had to do it.

The Dignitary sighed, and replied that he would get an agent on task, eventually.

Jack cursed, complaining that it wasn't good enough. She needed to die. Now.

The Dignitary sighed again, loudly and dramatically, conveying all of his annoyance passive aggressively. He quickly signed orders to reassign the Hegemonic Brute, wherever he may be, and put him to this task; telling his angry boss as much.

Jack still wasn't happy. He demanded immediate results.

With a shrug and an even more annoyed sigh, the Dignitary wrote up and sent a general, express priority command to all of their remaining off world agents, spies, and assassins.

That, seemed to please Jack Noir.

The Dignitary curtly asked if there was anything else.

There wasn't.

With an awkward goodbye, Jack hung up.

The Dignitary massaged his eyes for a moment, before idly considering sending a telegram downstairs, to have the Attentive Caretaker send up his afternoon coffee and newspaper right then and there. Dealing with Jack never failed to induce a headache for him.

Still, all would be well. The riots would be put down within the next few hours, he would sort out their tangled mess of a financial system, and this girl that so bothered his boss, this... Jade Harley, would be dead.

Everything would go just as planned.


End file.
